


Chasing Tails

by Chngminxo



Category: B.A.P, K-pop
Genre: Aka BAP are cops, Angst, Challenge Accepted, Comedy, Crime Fiction, Drama, How many cliches can I fit into one fic, M/M, Murder Mystery, Obligatory detective fic, Slow Burn, Suspence, Unit 12, dr junhong, dr youngjae, look a lot is gonna happen and we can all be excited together
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-12
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2019-05-05 18:32:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 63,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14624589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chngminxo/pseuds/Chngminxo
Summary: Quick in wit and overflowing with talent, Unit 12 is the Korean Federal Police' best kept secret. But when the body of a murdered woman disappears from a crime scene under their watch, Detective Kim Himchan is faced with his hardest case yet. It doesn't really help that there's some new guy getting in his way, either.





	1. Prologue

It was still dark as Himchan drove up and through the mountains. His left hand was resting on the steering wheel, his right curved around the cardboard cup of coffee nestled between his thighs. The tip of his index finger was drumming a small rhythm on the cardboard, just a slow beat to focus his mind and keep himself alert, it was barely even five in the morning. Snow was still hugging at the edge of the road, and Himchan knew that the higher in the mountains he got, the more likely it was that ice would be coating the bitumen. Winter had been long and dark, the coldest they'd had since he was a teenager, and even as it neared late March, the season showed no sign of breaking, nor the snow any sign of melting. He had loved it at first, seeing the snow as it bucketed down and blanketed everything in white, especially when he travelled down south to visit his aunt's pension an hour or so out of Seoul. Usually in winter the paddock behind her house would be muddy and brown sometimes dusted with snow like icing sugar on top of a cake, but that winter it had been piled high and thick, resembling cotton wool or billowing clouds. Admittedly it got old fast, though, and by the time February rolled around, he was ready for Spring.

 

Lights flashed red and blue up ahead, reflecting off the snow and sending eerie shadows through his car. A man in uniform stepped out in front of him, face stern as he held up his hand to stop him from driving forward. Himchan pulled his hand from the warmth of his cup and grabbed his ID wallet from where it sat beside his gear stick, flipping it open and showing the shiny silver badge. Immediately, the uniform nodded his head and waved him through to where cars were clustered around out front of the old, grey apartment block. Three squad cars and the crime scene unit, and a dinged up white car nestled between them. He made a face at the vehicle, now that the owner couldn't see him.

 

“Detective Kim, good morning.” Another uniformed officer approached once Himchan had pulled to a stop and opened the door. He took hold of his cup again and took a large sip, then reached to the cup holder where another was sitting.

 

“Morning.” Himchan kicked his door closed with his foot and turned to look up at the building before them. It wasn't particularly huge, about seven stories and it looked cheaply built, maybe from the eighties or nineties. Dark windows made row after row across the facade, and there was only about two or three metres on either side of the block before another building began, and another on each side of those stretching on down the street. He glanced up to the telegraph poles lining the road with twisted wires and static lights and saw a single red balloon shaped like a heart quivering in the cold wind. Its string was tangled between electric lines and it appeared frantic in its attempts to break free, but it always bounced back again to its tether.

 

The door into the apartment block's lobby was thrown open again and two more uniformed police came down the stairs, followed by a brunette dressed in fitted jeans and an oversized jacket, with black framed glasses perched on his nose. Jung Daehyun had been Himchan's partner for three years, ever since he'd joined the ranks of the Korean Federal Police's selective Unit 12. He was young, but he was skilled at what he did, and Himchan trusted him with his life.

 

“Hyung.” Daehyun smiled as he stepped off the footpath and onto the road. The elder man held up the second cup of coffee, just as he took a sip of his own and Daehyun's smile only grew.

 

He took the cardboard cup between cold hands and groaned, “Have I ever told you that you're the love of my life?”

 

“Shut the fuck up.” Himchan's tone was affectionate.

 

Daehyun gestured with his head towards the door, Himchan followed.

 

“What have we got?”

 

“Victim is an unidentified woman, early thirties. Found by some kids breaking into the apartment to smoke, apparently it's been left empty for months. Ambulance was dispatched after the 119 call, but with the progress of rigor mortis, they estimate time of death to have been as long as eight hours ago.” Daehyun pushed open the door for them both and lead Himchan towards the elevator and pressed the call button. The doors opened straight away, and they stepped in.

 

“Cause of death?”

 

“Can't seem to see any yet. No blood, no mess, nothing, not even any sign of a struggle. We'll probably have to wait for forensics to get here before we figure out more.” Daehyun pursed his lips with brows furrowed. It amused Himchan sometimes, the way Daehyun always looked years older when he was in the thick of it than he was when sitting behind his desk.

 

“Was there any sign of... Y'know.” Himchan winced at the sound of his own words.

 

“No sign of assault, no.” Daehyun released a breath, Himchan nodded once, “But we won't know for sure until swabs come back.”

 

They watched in silence as a flickering light illuminated each floor number, until a ding sounded to signify they had reached level five, and the doors slid open.

 

“There's something else.” Daehyun said with a frown, “Her fingerprints were burnt off.”

 

Himchan raised an eyebrow, “Don't want us to know who she is, then.”

 

“Apparently not.” Daehyun replied, then took a long sip of his coffee. They rounded a corner and came to a halt before a white door, Number 54, left hanging open. An officer stood stationed beside it and Daehyun paused to pull plastic caps from his pocket to cover the tread of their boots so as not to contaminate the crime scene.

 

“Gloves?” He asked, digging into his pocket once their shoes were covered.

 

“I've got some.” Himchan sucked in a deep breath through his nose, and held onto it for ten seconds before releasing it through his mouth. Even after four years in the unit, seeing a body had never become any easier.

 

“She's through here.” Daehyun said, gesturing right and down the hall as they crossed over and into the apartment. They passed an empty living room, the glass doors that lead out and onto the small verandah had been smashed, apparently some time ago, Himchan guessed from the light dusting of snow that had blown in, and the dry and dead leaves scattered across the carpeted floor. The kitchen was falling apart and paint had been left to peel from the walls beside the old and broken fridge, and the whole way down the hall to where yellow and black crime scene tape was stretched across a door. Himchan ducked underneath it and stepped in first.

 

The carpet was stained with old marks where water had pooled sometime before, and an old picture frame lay smashed in the corner. There was no furniture or decoration, only a ripped and yellowing white curtain billowing in the wind from a window left open. The room was empty.

 

“Daehyun, where is she?” Himchan asked, turning back to his partner as he followed him into the room.

 

Daehyun's eyes went wide, and his mouth fell open, “... Shit.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello and welcome to Chasing Tails! This fic has been kicking my ass for a good eight months by this point, and I am honestly SO excited to finally get it up and happening online. I hope you enjoy x


	2. Chapter 2

A clock was ticking on the wall and Himchan's hands were clasped together loosely in his lap, his right leg crossed over his left and he leant back in his seat. Beside him, Daehyun was twisting his fingers together until the knuckles were turning white, and his straight teeth were worrying so much at his lower lip that Himchan was beginning to wonder if it was going to start bleeding. There were bags under their eyes, they'd stayed out for hours searching the apartment block and surrounding area for the missing body, but nothing was found and by mid morning the partners had dragged their feet back to headquarters and into their director's office, lacking anything close to a good explanation.

 

So there they sat, across the table from Bang Yongguk, and Himchan knew that if there was ever an expression that could make someone cry, it was painted across Yongguk's face right then, and Daehyun was only just holding those tears at bay.

 

The director set his elbows on the edge of his desk and pressed the tips of his fingers together while he gazed evenly towards his agents, and while Daehyun's eyes flicked anxiously around the room, Himchan stared evenly back. In the six years he had known Yongguk, he had learned not to waste his time being intimidated by him, as so many around them were. They had met early on in their military service, after basic training was complete and they were all crammed in the barracks together south of Seoul. Himchan's bus had been the last to arrive, and most of the other soldiers had chosen their bunks and settled in by the time he came, bag slung over his shoulder and exhausted. The room bustled with life, young soldiers moving each and every direction, some excited for what was to come, others already dreaming of a home far away that they probably wouldn't see until the winter was out.

 

At first, it looked like all the bunks were taken but Himchan spied one way back in the corner. A large body was laying on the bottom bunk facing the wall, but the top was vacant with the simple blanket still neatly folded beside the standard issue rock hard pillow and he'd made towards it. He had hoisted his bag up onto it and taken off his shoes before he noticed the young man looking at him over his shoulder, face blank and eyes hard. His full lips were perfectly pouted, and his face was gentle but for the intensity of his stare.

 

“Hope you don't mind me taking this bunk, I'm Kim Himchan.” He said, glancing down at the badge pinned to the other's chest and reading aloud, “Bang Yongguk. It's nice to meet you.” It was three days until Yongguk had spoken to him for the first time, and even then the words came far and few between but Himchan didn't think he was a bad guy. On the contrary, he grew to believe Yongguk was the greatest man he'd ever known.

 

“I only went outside for a couple of minutes.” Daehyun said all of a sudden and both Himchan and Yongguk turned to look at him.

 

“I know.” Yongguk replied.

 

“I didn't even think to have someone stand in the room with her! People don't want to stand there and just... _stare_ at a dead body like that, I-I thought having the cop outside would be fine! I was just going downstairs to get Himchan.” Himchan's fingers pinched at the bridge of his nose, Daehyun did have a habit of word vomiting.

 

“I know.”

 

“Who _steals a body?_ Like, that is such a special kind of fucked up, I didn't think that _anyone_ would-”

 

Yongguk cut Daehyun off by lifting his hand and the boy bit his tongue. It was somewhat amusing to Himchan, he'd seen Daehyun negotiate with armed criminals, heard him interrogate known murderers and been at his side as he navigated a path between dismembered body parts scattered around a tiny room and nothing had him bat an eyelid, yet he fell to pieces in front of Yongguk. He'd laugh, if he didn't think it would make Daehyun _actually_ cry.

 

“I know.” Yongguk said for a third time, “But the commissioner has already been told, and she is unimpressed. If it gets out that the Unit are losing bodies from their crime scenes, we are all in hot water.”

 

“Nobody even knows the Unit exists.” Himchan said.

 

Yongguk turned from Daehyun to look at Himchan. “The government does. Whether or not the Unit is known to the public, we are still Federal Agents, Himchan, and we will be held accountable all the same. The commissioner is looking at us with a microscope for this. We have a missing body who we can't even identify.”

 

“Neither of those things are Daehyun's fault.” Himchan argued with a wave of his hand.

 

“My hands are tied, Himchan.”

 

“What is _that_ supposed to mean?”

 

“I'm taking Daehyun off the case.” Yongguk said finally, and the youngest closed his eyes. Across the room a fly was buzzing incessantly along the cloudy grey painted walls. It was impossible to know how the creature had made it down there, so low below street level but it continued to buzz without interruption in search of food or an escape. Himchan's eyes traced the frantic fluttering of its cellophane wings and guessed it must have followed a temptation into the Unit's elevator where it was carried down and down to where it wouldn't have a chance of finding its way free again.

 

“I understand, Sir.” Daehyun said, after a beat and Himchan's focus returned to the matter at hand.

 

“You can't be serious, Yongguk.” He stated simply.

 

“As I said, Himchan, my hands are tied.”

 

“Bullshit.” Himchan scoffed and shifted forward in his seat. A knock came at the door just as he prepared to continue, and Yongguk immediately turned his eyes towards it.

 

“Come in.” He said, sending Himchan a pointed look to keep him silent.

 

The door opened and Yongguk's assistant, Jin Shinyoung stepped over the threshold with a schooled expression on her face. She had a habit of that and in all his years working alongside Yongguk, Himchan had never liked her. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that she so outwardly didn't like him either.

 

“Sir, your next appointment is here.” She said and Yongguk nodded.

 

“Perfect timing. You can send him in.” Daehyun and Himchan both began to rise, taking that as their dismissal, but the director was quick to gesture towards Himchan, “You're not going anywhere. Sit back down.”

 

Himchan shared a final glance with Daehyun, then his partner was gone and instead through the door came another man. He wasn't tall, maybe just below average and upon first sight, he appeared to be all angles. Sharp cheekbones pointed down towards a pouted mouth and perfect jaw, while strands of jet black hair fanned out across his forehead and fell into his dark eyes that surveyed the room in short flicks, from each book in their case behind Himchan, to the fly still buzzing across the wall, then to Yongguk and finally to Himchan. He was beautiful, strikingly so and young. Himchan doubted he could be much older than his early twenties, at most.

 

“Moon Jongup, it's a pleasure to meet you.”

 

“The pleasure is mine, sir.” Moon Jongup said with a voice both smooth and soft, like fresh powder snow or exquisite silk. Yongguk rose and took his hand in a firm shake, then gestured towards the seat Daehyun had left empty, and Jongup sat.

 

“This is my lead Detective, Kim Himchan.” Yongguk gestured with his right hand towards his old friend and Jongup turned to bow his head respectfully.

 

Yongguk leant forward in his seat, his steady gaze shifting between the two men before him. It was something Himchan had always liked about him, he would never speak until he knew just what it was he wanted to say. That didn't mean Himchan always liked what he said, though. He definitely wasn't enjoying himself right then.

 

“Himchan, with Daehyun sitting out on this one, it has been arranged for Jongup to take the place as your partner on the investigation.” Yongguk said easily.

 

“Excuse me?” Himchan scoffed, “The body went missing less than five _hours_ ago and you've already replaced Daehyun?”

 

“You can't work a case on your own.”

 

“Then bring my partner back.” Himchan challenged. Silently, Jongup continued to watch with sharp eyes that flicked between the Director and his Detective.

 

“Jongup-ssi, if you would be so kind as to leave us be for a moment. All the documents you should require for briefing are at your desk, and Himchan will take you to view the crime scene soon.” Yongguk said.

 

“Yes, sir.” Jongup rose from his seat without even sitting in it long enough to keep Daehyun's cushion warm. He turned and bowed his head to Himchan with the hint of a smile on his lips, then silently slipped free from the room.

 

The door clicked closed and Himchan turned to Yongguk, “Daehyun is a good cop.”

 

“No one is saying he isn't.” Yongguk's tone was infuriatingly steady, “But so is Jongup.”

 

“He's a kid. There is no way in hell that he is capable of working this case.”

 

“He's no younger than Daehyun was when you first met, and we have younger than him on our team.” Yongguk reasoned.

 

“We have a murderer to catch, now isn't the time to be making a point to take Daehyun off the case. He made a mistake, he shouldn't be punished like a _child._ ” Himchan leant forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he tensed his palms in frustration.

 

“Not everything is about crime and punishment, Himchan, this isn't a Dostoyevski novel.”

 

“Yongguk we are _literally police officers!”_ Himchan groaned. His right hand lifted and he rubbed between his brows with the tips of his fingers and his jaw clenched. Across the desk, Yongguk was leaning back in his seat, his gaze turned towards the frame positioned on his desk. He had never been one for decoration in his office. Cases of books and old files lined the walls, but he had never bothered the fresh plaster, or tidy desk with imagery until he was gifted an intricate drawing, an anatomical study of the human skeleton. Its arms hung limp at its sides and empty eye sockets stared unseeing from the paper, while small hand written notes and arrows gave names along either side of the form. Fibula, sternum, radius, metatarsal. It looked like a printed picture in a biology textbook, except from between its gaping ribs, blossoms of red, pink and orange were blooming outwards, their petals caught inside the cage of its chest but threatening to overflow. It had been drawn specifically to take pride of place on Yongguk's desk, and sometimes when they worked late through the night Himchan saw him staring at it as he thought. He knew how precious the drawing was to Yongguk, but that would never come close to how dearly he loved its creator.

 

“Jongup is here to stay.” Yongguk said finally and Himchan sighed.

 

“If this case goes south, it's on you.” He replied and stood and Yongguk couldn't help but smile.

 

“Just go do your job.”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

*

 

 

Jongup walked away from Director Bang's office. The voices that rose in the room were muffled by the door, as were Jongup's heavy footsteps as his boot-clad feet landed against charcoal grey carpet and he took his time to properly survey his surroundings. From the outside, the building hardly seemed anything special, just a run down office block barely standing on its foundations and as Jongup triple-read the address on his phone he realised with some disappointment that it wasn't quite the set of a James Bond movie he'd been imagining. That is, not until he stepped inside. Two wide automatic doors slid open and he had been welcomed into the well heated vestibule by a security guard demanding identification, who then patted him down thoroughly and sent him through the security gate to be met by a woman with tumbling ebony hair and a honey smooth voice.

 

“Good morning, Detective Moon.” She greeted, “I am Agent Jin, personal assistant to Director Bang.” Behind her, a room of scattered desks was bustling with uniformed police, but instead of leading him towards it, they stepped together into the empty body of a broad elevator. A series of buttons numbered one to five were lined up vertically on a panel with a small keypad situated beneath. Her nails clicked as she tapped in a series of numbers, then with a scan of her keycard, the carriage began its descent.

 

Jongup had first heard rumours of Unit 12 when he enrolled in Yonsei University and moved onto campus. It had started as a whisper through the halls of the Law Faculty dorms, something the students from Seoul would spook the country kids with, and have them rolling their eyes and dismissing it as an urban myth, something no more real than the Illuminati. Later, as the weight of their Law degree settled onto their shoulders, it progressed into a joke, _“Unit 12 will come and get you for that.”_ They would say across a staged trial, even for the slightest fictitious infraction. The South Korean federal police had eleven known units, each one focusing its resources on a different task, from patrolling the coastline to chasing cyber criminals, tackling organised gangs on the city streets, even protecting the President himself, and Jongup could see why the idea of a legendary, secret twelfth unit was so attractive to young and curious minds. He'd never believed the stories himself, until he was told they were true.

 

Jongup wasn't sure what it was he'd been expecting when the elevator's rickety doors slid back open, but a wide mezzanine overlooking an open plan office probably wasn't it. Television screens lined the walls, some showing live media feeds from news programs all across the world, while others displayed an array of crime scene photos, detailed maps, numbers ticking and counting something Jongup didn't know. A row of three broad desks were set up at the room's centre and through the glass wall opposite them, Jongup could see an elaborate meeting room. It appeared that the towering roof was supported by slim pillars made of steel and painted white, but at each of their bases someone had positioned a plant that crawled upwards slowly, and filled the space with green and life that distracted from the lack of windows and natural light.

 

“Welcome to Unit 12.” Agent Jin said as she came up alongside him and Jongup followed her down the stairs and into the belly of the beast.

 

With Director Bang, and Detective Kim's voices still echoing behind him, Jongup passed Jin by and walked back into the main expanse of the wide open office, now he had time to finally take it all in. It was slightly thrilling in a way, to know he was privy to a secret so coveted by the government, and Jongup felt the corner of his lips twitch upwards. His brother would love this, it was a shame he could never know. The ceilings were so high that sound seemed to echo from the televisions up into it, and Jongup's eyes followed a vine hugged pillar up to where the plant was spreading over plaster to form the beginnings of a rainforest like canopy high above his head.

 

“ _A truck crashed into oncoming traffic on Macquarie Street this morning in a tragic accident...”_ A prim man said in a broad Australian accent from behind a news reader's desk, and Jongup's head turned towards it. On the next television, a young woman was announcing news in French, and beyond her another was reporting in Chinese. Jongup squinted at the screen, he could see an image of something on fire super imposed behind the stoic woman, but she was talking too fast for him to understand her perfectly annunciated words.

 

“We keep them on in the background when we're not using them for anything else.” Jongup turned his head quickly towards the voice, just as the detective who had been dismissed from the Director's office rose from his knees on the floor. He set down a series of documents on the desk beside a small collection of bulging evidence bags and dusted off his hands, and his full lips spread into an easy smile, “Jung Daehyun.” He said, and extended his hand for Jongup to shake, which he did.

 

“Moon Jongup.”

 

Daehyun gestured vaguely to the TV's on the wall, then flicked through the pages laid out upon his desk, “It's good to see what's going on elsewhere in the world sometimes, especially when we don't have a case we're working on. This way we know when anything big happens.”

 

“None of them are in Korean, though.” Jongup observed and Daehyun laughed again and used the tip of his index finger to push the thick black framed glasses he wore further up his nose.

 

“No, but between the six of us who work here we've got a couple other languages under our belts, mostly thanks to Shinyoung-noona.” He said, and tucked the sheets of paper safely into their manila folder.

 

“So... Since you'll be around a while, make yourself at home. This is my desk, and opposite me is where Himchan sits, we do most of our work here. There's stationary and shit in the cupboards, feel free to help yourself, same with the break room, we have a microwave and everything but we usually end up heading out onto the street to get food. Gives us some time in the sun, y'know?” Daehyun's words were coming out in a rush and he was gesturing around the room as he spoke. Jongup glanced down at Himchan's desk, it was neatly organised, completely opposite of Daehyun's mess of pens and papers scattered about. Pens and pencils were kept neatly in cups, while notepads were stacked in piles with documents clipped together to keep them in order. The lid of Himchan's laptop was closed, and a small plant was positioned beside it along with a small photo kept in a gold frame of a young woman. Her black hair was tumbling down on either side of her face dotted with small white flecks of falling snow, and ruby red lips were spread into a smile so wide her eyes almost disappeared. It seemed so personal and candid that the image was captured of her when she wasn't quite paying attention, and Jongup felt like he was intruding on a moment of intimacy by looking.

 

“Anyway, moving on.” Daehyun said, and Jongup's eyes snapped up to watch him stride over towards the two doors built into the glass wall opposite, “So in there is the meeting room. We don't use it often but it's useful for forensics and stuff, then beside that is the break room with a couple couches and a table. Yongguk says they weren't put there to be slept on, but they come in handy if we ever need to work through the night.” Daehyun smiled again, “Downstairs is the labs where the Doc works, there's lockers and showers and stuff down there too if you don't have time, or go out in the field and end up a mess. I usually keep a couple changes of clothes there just in case.”

 

Jongup nodded his head. He stepped a little closer and as he rounded the desk he saw the mud that was drying around Daehyun's shoes, and the hems of his fitted blue jeans almost up to the knee. He knew the reason why the Director and Himchan were fighting was this man in front of him, complete with mud caked clothes and his brown hair wind swept and knotted.

 

He cleared his throat, “The Director mentioned there was a case file...” Daehyun pointed again, this time to the desk beside his. It was empty, except for a yellow manila folder tucked with a handful of printed sheets.

 

“Noona made one up for you this morning.” He said, then hesitated. Daehyun's fingers distractedly fiddled with the papers in his hand, and Jongup waited.

 

“Are they fighting in there?” He finally asked and when Jongup nodded, Daehyun winced, “Look... Himchan is a good guy. Don't take this personally, he's just... Loyal.”

 

“I won't.” Jongup replied. He wanted to say the same, that Daehyun shouldn't take it personally that he had been brought in to take his place, but it didn't feel like the right time. Instead he shifted on his feet and gestured to the evidence bags folded up on Daehyun's desk, “What are these?”

 

“Ah!” Daehyun said and picked them up, “Samples collected from the scene. Soil, fabric... Nothing that could quite be called _evidence_ at this point... But I figured we can't come back to Dr. Choi empty handed. Since I'm not on the case anymore, I can't really be part of the chain of evidence, though, so I was waiting for Himchan to come out so he could take them down to the lab.”

 

“I'll take them.” Jongup said and his lips twitched into a smile, “If you tell me where to go.”

 

*

 

 

The elevator clunked and rattled on its way down, and Jongup made a face as the doors wheezed their way open. You'd think a technologically advanced secret government agency could afford at least a half descent elevator. He stepped out and glanced around, this floor wasn't as grand as that above. The doors opened into a shallow soulless room with linoleum floors and dull grey walls. It was just as wide as that above, but instead of being a mezzanine overlooking an open plan office it was a vestibule opposite a broad glass wall with automatic doors built in that lead through into two long rooms running parallel to one another. On the left the room was dark, with a bank of lockers build up against one wall and instead Jongup turned to the right, where he could clearly see a lab with long white counters lining either wall towards an open door at the opposite end. He stepped forward, and the automatic doors opened with a _ding_ to signify his entry. Immediately beside the door was a sink and a half empty box of disposable latex gloves, then further along the counter was an array of beakers and microscopes leading to another piece of complex machinery Jongup wasn't quite certain the purpose of. About a quarter of the way along the room, the wall separating the lab and the space beside it fell away and was replaced instead by a glass panel that showed through to a dimly lit operating theatre. The floor was lower in there, and a set of stairs lead down from the locker room Daehyun had mentioned. Large metal capsules lined the opposite wall with a grid of handles three by four imbedded into them, the morgue.

 

“Who are you?” Jongup jumped as he heard the voice of a young man and turned his head towards the opened door, where he could see a boy, seated on a wheeled desk chair, looking at him with distrust. A pair of clear framed glasses sat on his nose, and a white lab coat hung from the back of his chair, while the boy himself was dressed simply in a black t-shirt, a pair of blue jeans with rips at the knees and sneakers. It was striking, how young he was, and his choice of clothing had Jongup feeling somewhat over dressed in his fitted black suit.

 

“Detective Moon Jongup.” Jongup said and the boy quirked an eyebrow curiously.

 

“The guy brought in to fill Dae-hyung's spot?” He asked.

 

Jongup nodded, “I'm looking for Dr. Choi.” He said, holding up the evidence bags. The boy rose from his seat and stepped forward into the main lab, clearly enticed by the bags.

 

“You found 'im, Detective Moon.” He said vaguely and snatched the bags clean from Jongup's hold, already peering disappointedly into them, “Soil samples, really? That's all I get?”

 

“You're Dr. Choi?” Jongup asked as the tall boy plopped down into another rolling chair and already started decanting the soil samples into a nearby dish so he could look at them through one of the microscopes.

 

“At your service.” He replied distractedly.

 

“You're so-” Jongup cut himself off, he probably wouldn't be the first to comment on his age.

 

“Boyishly handsome with a winning personality?” The doctor said, with his right eye pressed up against the microscope's eye piece. Jongup would have thought he was pissed, if he didn't see the hint of an amused smile tugging at his lips, and the detective couldn't help but mirror it with a smile of his own.

 

“How did you guess what I was going to say?”

 

The doctor pulled back from the microscope, he was grinning brightly, causing his eyes to crinkle at the edges and a small dimple to show in his right cheek, “It comes with being the Doc.” He said and offered out his hand, “Choi Junhong, it's nice to meet you, Detective Moon.”

 

“So you're the forensics guy?” Jongup asked as he took hold of Junhong's hand and shook it firmly.

 

Junhong shrugged and when their hands parted, he was reaching for a pair of latex gloves and peering at the soil sample again, “Yes and no.” He chuckled, “ _Technically_ I'm the Forensic Pathologist, but they prefer to keep all lab work in house so as not to let our operations out of the bag, so I do this as well.”

 

“Sounds like a lot of work.” Jongup frowned and Junhong shrugged. He was grinning again, and Jongup had quickly learned the kid's smile was damn infectious.  
  
“Yeah but I don't mind. It's pretty cool, honestly. I like to think of it like another hobby. Excuse me,” He said and Jongup only had a second to step out of the way as Junhong launched his wheely chair down alone the bench to a cupboard holding more petrie dishes in varying sizes and he went about choosing the perfect one. Jongup watched the way his hands searched through the cupboard, certain with what they were searching for and he noticed the distinct black of tattooed ink on his bicep. At first, he thought it was a selection of geometric shapes, then when he tilted his head he saw ancient runes of some kind until finally Jongup made sense of the lines and circles printed under skin.

 

“Is that a TI-Fighter?” He asked and Junhong glanced down at the ink on his arm.

 

“Yep, and an X-Wing.” He said, setting down the dish he'd chosen and using his finger to tug up the hem of his shirt to show off the simple tattoos. It was nothing but line work, delicately placed in a line along the inside of his bicep, a TI-Fighter, an X-Wing and above them a simple rendition of the Death Star, “Cool, huh?”

 

Jongup nodded and came forward to get a better look, “Which's your favourite movie?”

 

Something in Junhong lit up at the question and he turned around to have his back to the cupboard he had been so focused on only a moment before, “A New Hope is such a classic, and the new ones are pretty good too but Empire Strikes Back is just so _good_ , y'know?” He launched in, “The plot is like the backbone of the original trilogy, and it's so beautifully shot. The colour palettes across the three planets are just so unique, and it's so awesome the way they like juxtapose the murky green of Dagobah with the pinks and peach tones of Cloud City it's all just so _well done-”_

 

Junhong stopped talking when the signature rattle of the elevator approaching sounded and both men turned to watch as a disgruntled Himchan stepped from the carriage and headed for the lab. The doors slid open with the soft _ding_ and he was already gesturing to the evidence bags sitting on the counter not far from Junhong, “Have you found anything?” He asked.

 

“Good morning, Himchan-hyung. You're cheery as always today.” Junhong said with a bright smile. Himchan gave him what could only be described as _a look._ Junhong continued, “There's no evidence here, Hyung. I've got a clump of soil and some mouldy curtains.”

 

“You're supposed to be a genius at this shit.” Himchan pressed the tips of his fingers into the creases of his forehead.

 

“Yes, a genius, Hyung, not a magician. I can't conjure up something from four bags of nothing, but I'll keep looking. Just because you asked so nicely.” Junhong stood from his chair and grabbed the petrie dish he'd set aside and carried it back towards his trusted microscope.

 

“Come on, I'll take you to have a look at the crime scene.” Himchan said, only turning his attention to Jongup for long enough to look at him before he was heading back the way he had come.

 

“I'm sure Jongup-ssi can't wait, you sound so excited.” Junhong said from where he was peering through the microscope again.

 

“Just find me some evidence, Choi.” Himchan said as he made his exit, this time with affection tinting his words.

 

“I will when you find me a body, Kim.” Junhong called and the doors slid closed.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God damn I already know this fic is going to have me clawing my face off. Thank you so much for reading, I think the posting schedule for this is going to be every second week! x


	3. Chapter 3

It started raining when they were half way up the mountain. Large droplets fell from the sky and splattered against the windscreen one by one until a steady reservoir was cascading down the glass and flying off each wing mirror. It would take much more than this to melt the snow piled up on either side of the road, Jongup knew, but it was enough to melt smaller clumps into dirty mud that stripped the grey city of its winter brightness to lace it instead with brown. Growing up in Seoul Himchan was used to the monotone and instead looked to the bright lights of Neon signs to enrich the winter, but Jongup yearned for green. A plane passed overhead, the lights on its wings glowing between the low hanging clouds as it moved in and out of sight. It was like a giant appearing through mist and roaring all the way, and Jongup couldn't help the way he tipped his head to the side until his crown pressed to the cold window so he could watch it on its slow descent to Gimpo's glowing runways.

 

When the car rounded a bend, a hind wheel dipped into a snow covered pot hole making it rock like a boat on the waves and sending slush flying behind them. Jongup braced his palm against the door and watched as the row of large apartment blocks came into view up ahead, grey and unassuming but still surrounded by uniformed officers, and decorated in sashes of police tape marking it off for trespassers. A man wearing high-vis green stepped up to the window and Himchan slowed and rolled it down just enough for the man's cold-flushed face to peer in.

 

“Identification?” He said gruffly with his breath billowing out in a fog.

 

“Kim Himchan, and this is my colleague, Moon Jongup.” Himchan drew his badge from the inside of his coat and flipped it open, while Jongup leant half across the console to flash his own.

 

“Go ahead.” The officer said while gesturing with his head towards a few empty spaces lined up in front of the building. Himchan dipped his head and wound the window back up before any more raindrops could spit their way in.

 

“Lots of uniform.” Jongup noted and tucked his badge away.

 

“They doubled security after this morning.”

 

“For show, I'm guessing.”

 

Himchan pulled the keys from the ignition once the car was stopped and quirked his brows, “Keeps the locals feeling like everything is under control.”

 

Jongup drew his hood up and over his head while his boots sunk into mud and followed Himchan and one uniform officer towards the building, turning this way and that to take in the sight of the grey buildings lined up beside one another like soldiers at the front. Small cracks were showing between concrete bricks with dead and drying grass hanging limp from where they had miraculously managed to take root and the heavy falling rain was washing the stone with patterns of grey and charcoal between the wet and dry. Tall pine trees lined the road and surrounded the buildings, smothering what little light peered through the rain clouds rolling in from the east. They wrapped their way around the solid blocks of grey and spread into a thick wood that carried on up the side of the mountain where it was becoming too steep to build and concealed narrow walking tracks with their thick trunks and evergreen needles. Even there on the outer stretches of Seoul, Jongup couldn't help but find it a conspicuous place to leave behind a body. He lifted his head again up and towards the sky and grazed his eyes over the windows that reflected flashing red and blue. Rain spat at his face and he squinted to keep it from his eyes as he noticed a woman standing in the window of a fifth floor apartment, watching him back.

 

“You coming?” Himchan said, he'd paused a few metres ahead with his face still twisted into an expression that seemed less than impressed. Jongup pulled his eyes away from the woman and stepped up and followed, and the door swung closed behind him.

 

“Where are the kids who found her?” He asked, while wiping his fingers across rain-wet face.

 

“One of mine dropped them off to school a couple hours ago.” The uniform said. His big hands were wiping at the raindrops on his coat, he wore the same vibrant green the others did, standard issue rain gear.

 

“How old are they?”

 

Uniform shrugged one shoulder and shook his head, “Fourteen and fifteen.”

 

“Too young to see that.” Himchan said, Uniform nodded. They fit uncomfortably tight in the elevator, and it creaked and rocked as it carried them up the levels to the crime scene. Doors opened with an emphatic Ding and Jongup followed Himchan out again, all while his eyes scanned the walls and the doors of passing apartments. _Fifty-one. Fifty-two. Fifty-three_. Finally, they came to a stop outside apartment number Fifty-four, pulled on caps over the tread of their boots and went inside.

 

“You can leave us here, I'm sure there's a lot of other things you need to be doing. We won't disturb you anymore.” Himchan said with a charming smile to the uniformed officer. Full lips stretched wide to reveal a row of almost-straight, white teeth and his face softened into well-worn creases around his mouth and eyes. Jongup had never seen a smile suit someone quite as much as it suited Himchan, but then the officer left the room, and Himchan wasn't smiling anymore.

 

His brows furrowed and lips twisted in such a way that Jongup wasn't sure he'd ever see Himchan do anything but scowl again, since his face seemed to have forgotten how to do anything else in the moments since the cop left. The elder man strode across the room and gestured with his head to the corner of the room, where a small yellow sign marked with a number one was placed, “This is where she was found.” He snapped on a pair of latex gloves as he spoke, and Jongup began fishing around in his pocket for his own pair. They were the kind of thing he always had on him.

 

“Was the window open?” Jongup knelt down and observed the old carpet, there was no blood or hair or anything else that could have indicated a woman lay there only a few hours before under the billowing curtains from the open window.

 

“Not when Daehyun first saw her, but when I came in it was. I assumed whoever took her went out that way.” Himchan stepped over, the small caps he wore over his boots rustling in a way that would be comical if it weren't so serious. He peered out of the window and Jongup raised an eyebrow.  
  
“From the fifth floor? Someone would have noticed that.”

 

“Well you'd think a crowd of twenty cops would notice a body being stolen from a crime scene no matter how it happened but clearly they didn't.” Himchan bit back and turned to look down at Jongup, irritated.

 

“So what, it's uniform's fault the body went missing? Detective Jung was leading the crime scene, she disappeared under his supervision.” Jongup pushed himself up to stand again. He didn't quite meet Himchan's height, but he could wear just as impressive a scowl.

 

“Daehyun is-” Himchan began, but Jongup cut him off.

 

“-A good cop, I know. I've heard.” He turned his head towards the door as footsteps approached down the hallway. Uniform appeared in the doorway again, looking somewhat uncertainly between them. Jongup guessed their voices carried.

 

“Found anything?” He tried as his meaty palms rubbed together.

 

“Not in here, but I wouldn't mind taking a look outside. They had to have left a trace somewhere.” It would be getting dark again soon, there wasn't an infinite amount of time left.

 

“This is a waste of time,” Himchan pinched the bridge of his nose, Jongup turned to look at him and raised an eyebrow. “We already looked through those woods for _hours._ ” Himchan elaborated and waved his hand through the air to vent his frustration, “There's nothing _here._ ”

 

“I haven't looked.” Jongup said back to him. His voice was infuriatingly steady, and his expression perfectly schooled, which only proved to get further and further under Himchan's skin.

 

“Fine, you look. I'm leaving.”

 

“Fine, I'll have one of the uniform drive me back.” Jongup agreed steadily with a glance towards Uniform, still watching them nervously from the doorway. Though when his eyes met Jongup's, he readily nodded his head.

 

A bark of frustrated laughter left Himchan and he shook his head, “Enjoy wasting your time, Moon. I'm going to go do my job.” He said and pushed past the officer and trudged back out towards the entrance of the apartment. For a moment, Jongup listened to the sound of his retreating footsteps until they had faded, and all he could hear was the winter air whistling its way around the building, and the soft fluffing sound of the billowing curtain, then he turned back towards Uniform with a half smile.

 

“Lead the way.”

 

*

 

When the sun set, it looked like the sky was bleeding. Waves of orange and red refracted off the clouds and crashed down onto the trees sending sharp shadows spilling eerily over the rounded snow and Jongup knew when it was time to admit defeat. Uniformed officers retreated back through the trees to where their cars were parked in a neat line, ready to hand over to the new officers coming on shift, and by the time Jongup made it back through the building's front door, cars were already peeling back from the curb and disappearing over the side of the mountain. Only a handful of uniform would stay to watch the crime scene through the night, but Jongup figured that wasn't an issue. Wasn't like there was anything left to steal.

 

When Jongup climbed into the squad car, he welcomed the blast of hot air shooting from the air-conditioning vents and thawing out his frozen face, even if the rapid defrost started to sting. Snow had began to seep through the toes of his shoes and into his socks, and the tips of his hair were frozen. Thankfully the rain had paused just long enough for his search through the forest, but soon the slushy snow would freeze, and it would be perilous in the morning.

 

“They say it's going to snow tonight.” Uniform said to break the silence. They were half way down the mountain, and his meaty fingers were wrapped around the steering wheel at ten and two, while static voices echoed from the vehicle's radio. Jongup had never been in a Police car before, and after silent consideration, he decidedly realised it was what he would classify as _cool._ “It'll cover any last footstep we'd be hoping to find.”

 

“Whatever was left would have been washed away in the rain anyway.” Jongup grimaced. There wasn't much use focusing on the crime scene, he thought. Once back at the office he would search through missing persons, or try and determine any other plausible dump sites. Something had to give them a clue, he just had to find it.

 

It was completely dark when the car pulled up out front, and Uniform leant forward to look up at it, unimpressed, “You sure you're right to be dropped here? It's late, I can take you home.”

 

Jongup shook his head, “Here is perfect.”

 

The front doors slid open, security checked him, and the elevator down into the gut of Unit 12's headquarters rattled and rocked until its doors opened up with a dysphoric _ding!_ And Jongup stepped out.

 

“There you are!” Junhong said brightly as he made it up and onto the mezzanine, both Daehyun and Himchan following not far behind, “I was wondering where you'd got to.”

 

Jongup spared a glance between the three agents, “I decided to stay back after Detective Kim left to take another look around, until it got too dark.”

 

“Find anything?” Yongguk reached the top of the stairs a moment later. He looked more relaxed in a deep charcoal overcoat, and a cozy scarf hanging loosely around his neck. Jongup shook his head, and Yongguk grimaced.

 

Daehyun slipped his arms into the heavy indigo coat that had been slung over his arms and smiled, “We're heading to the bar round the corner, if you'd like to come.” His voice was warm.

 

“I was going to stay a while.” Jongup replied, but he didn't move. Yongguk shook his head.

 

“Join us, just for an hour or two. It's been a long day, and you won't be use to anyone tomorrow if you've worked through the night without a break.”

 

“A little rich coming from you, Bbang.” Himchan provided and walked past them and into the waiting elevator. The director just smiled and Jongup liked the way it softened him around the edges when his pink gums and teeth showed, and he didn't argue anymore. Instead, he followed the doctor and three agents into the lift, and waited for it to carry them back above ground.

 

The bar wasn't far from Unit 12's headquarters, and when they got there it was already bustling with life. Suits sat lined up along the bar with their ties loosened, and top buttons popped while the tender served them drinks in the low, orange light. Round tables were arranged across the open space, while broader booths were built against the walls, all filled with friends chatting and laughing amongst themselves. By the time Jongup's arms had slipped from his overcoat, Junhong was crossing the room towards a booth only taken by one man, not much older than him with dark hair that shone rust red when it caught the light. He was dressed comfortably in an oversized sweater, with dark rimmed glasses perched on his nose, and when Junhong got close enough he rose to pull the doctor into a hug, while the others followed him over.

 

“Thanks for minding the table, Hyung.” Junhong gladly dropped down into the booth beside the brunette, while Daehyun slid in opposite. With a gesture from Yongguk, Jongup sat beside Daehyun, and the brunette observed him with curiosity.

 

“Detective Moon Jongup, meet Doctor Yoo Youngjae.” Daehyun said, gesturing between them. Dr. Yoo extended his hand for Jongup to shake, which he did.

 

“Another doctor?” Jongup asked.

 

“Not really.” Junhong replied, only to be rewarded with a smack to his shoulder from Youngjae.

 

“Different kind of doctor.” He provided, “I'm a criminal psychologist.”

 

“And a very valued member of our team.” Junhong said in a voice filled with faux seriousness. Another smack landed against his shoulder, Junhong grinned.

 

“Shut up, you shit.” Youngjae said it affectionately. It was nice to see colleagues so close to one another, and Jongup was sure they had seen enough in their time together that only brought them closer. As Youngjae ruffled Junhong's hair, and the maknae thrashed back against him, Daehyun turned to Yongguk who was yet to remove his coat and scarf.

 

“Where's Himchan?” he asked, Yongguk gestured with his head towards the bar and Jongup turned. Through the dim, he could see that a cluster of suits had parted ways, and Himchan was leaning between them. His elbows were against the bar as he chatted to the tender mixing his drink, while his overcoat hung open at the front.

 

“I'll get the first round.” Yongguk said, and the others chimed in their orders. Jongup met Yongguk's even gaze with a steady one of his own.

 

“Just a beer, thanks.” He said, and the director pulled away.

 

“So tell us about you then.” Youngjae smiled warmly, though his eyes were assessing, “You a cop?”

 

“A lawyer.” Jongup replied.

 

“We haven't had one of those before.” Daehyun commented and tapped at his lower lip with the tip of his index finger, “We've got a child genius, a brain guy and a self-proclaimed computer nerd, but Lawyer is new.”

 

“You know about computers?” Jongup glanced to Daehyun. He had an accent, something sharpening the edge of his words and dragging at his vowels and making every sentence sound ridged and valleyed like a mountain range. Southern.

 

“I dabble.” He said.

 

“What about them, what are their _things_?” Jongup glanced over towards the bar. Yongguk had found a space beside Himchan and the two of them were deep in conversation. Himchan's brows were furrowed seriously as he said something, and Yongguk responded with a full bellied laugh that had his head thrown back as his palm found a warm spot between his Detective's shoulder blades. Seeing them like this was nothing like they had behaved back at HQ.

 

“Their _thing_ is just... Being them. They go way back.” Youngjae provided while watching Jongup's expression, “They did their service together.”

 

“And they've been in the Unit a long time?” Jongup's brow quirked when Junhong and Youngjae exchanged a conspiratorial look, then leant in closer in perfect unison. He figured they were going for dramatic, but they shot right past it and landed smack bang on cheesy.

 

“They _were_ the Unit,” Youngjae said in a tone as hushed as it could be while they sat together in a decently crowded bar, “Before Dae was brought in to shake things up, that is. The unit wasn't originally created to utilise the talents of people the government saw potential in, the unit was created to utilise _them_.”

 

“Then later more people started appearing on the government radars, so they started getting others involved. Rumour has it that a bunch of governments were so desperate for our Baby-Junnie to be theirs that World War Three almost started.” Daehyun added, and Junhong rolled his eyes.

 

“And yet I got stuck with you.” He sighed.

 

Youngjae managed to ignore the other two, something Jongup suspected he'd become quite good at, “Anyway, when Daehyun came in and Himchan took him under his wing, the Unit was set to expand. I was brought in not long after Jun, and Yongguk-Hyung was made director, since they figured the best person to lead us would be one of us, and we were becoming too many to go on without some kind of organisation.”

 

“What about Agent Jin?” The question silenced the bickering Jongup had tried to ignore.

 

“Shinyoung-noona? Well... No one really knows about her. Yongguk-hyung does, but he's not one for sharing information without good reason, it's really annoying.” Daehyun made a face, as though he had experience in trying to weasel information from the stoic director. “She doesn't come to this kinda thing though. Team bonding isn't really her preferred past-time.”

 

“That, and her and Himchan hate each other.” Youngjae said. Jongup's brow quirked and he shifted forward, a question on the tip of his tongue when a frosted glass was set down in front of him. He glanced up and into Himchan's face.

 

Yongguk slid easily into the seat beside Junhong, leaving Jongup to shift closer to Daehyun so that Himchan could fit on their side of the table.

 

“So, Jae, what have you got?” Himchan leant both elbows on the table and wrapped both his palms around his sweating class. Droplets of condensation were already sliding over it and slipping through his fingers and onto the table.

 

Youngjae straightened up and pursed his lips in thought, “Stealing a body isn't really common practice, and it could mean any number of things. Maybe your murderer left it there-”

 

“Her.” Himchan cut him off.

 

Youngjae nodded his head, “Yes, sorry, left _her_ there for someone to find but she was found by the wrong person. Though it was a pretty secluded place, it's not like anyone is going to regularly visit an abandoned apartment.” He pursed his lips in thought while the pad of his thumb rubbed slowly along the lip of his glass. It was some kind of mixed drink, clear and carbonated with a maraschino cherry decorating it with a garish flash of red.

 

“Do we know who owns the place?” Junhong asked from around a bent pink straw.

 

“No one.” Himchan sighed, “The owner died a year and a half ago, but there was no family so it just went to the state. All the furnishings and belongings were sold off, but the apartment was left as is.”

 

“Why would somebody purposely leave the body to be discovered there of all places? Is it worth the risk? The crime scene was _crawling_ with cops by the time she went missing.” Daehyun pointed out and Youngjae nodded again.

 

“It's always possible she was bait. Classic show of power, they dangle something in front of our noses, and then take it away before we can get to it. Whoever they are wanted us to know she was dead, wanted us to know _they_ were out there and they had the skill to steal a body from a crowded crime scene.” He tipped his head to the side and pursed his lips.

 

“But bait for what?” Daehyun spoke again.

 

“I guess that's what we need to figure out.” Junhong sighed. While the team fell into discussion, out of the corner of Jongup's eye, he saw Himchan and Yongguk exchange a look.

 

Eventually it was Daehyun who stripped their conversation of the missing woman, and rejuvenated it with smiles and laughter again. Drinks lowered, then emptied, and Himchan announced he was heading to the bar to get everyone another. Youngjae cheered, Daehyun declared his love, and Jongup smiled squished between them, warmed by the sensation of brotherhood, then cooled with his awareness that he wasn't part of it. At some point during the evening, Yongguk's spine had relaxed, and his smile had eased, and now his arm was stretched out along the back of the booth behind Junhong's broad shoulders as the boy waved his hands animatedly through every story he told. Youngjae's laughter was getting louder, Daehyun's smile wider until their Maknae waved his hands just that little bit wilder and slammed into the side of a glass. Himchan's hand shot forward, and he caught it easily in his palm before it could go crashing to the ground but it was enough to have Yongguk's slender fingers brushing over Junhong's shoulders.

 

“I think it's about time I get you home.” He smiled warmly. His voice was even, his tone normal, Jongup had noticed the way he was still nursing his second drink while the others were nearing their fourth, or in some cases fifth.

 

“We should probably all get home.” Himchan provided, he'd made it to three, he'd had a long day. Daehyun voiced his complaint, but he didn't hesitate before rising from the booth with the others, and following closely behind Himchan towards the door. Yongguk's arm slipped low around Junhong's waist while the boy beamed with pink flushed cheeks and tripped over his own feet on the way out. Jongup didn't think he was anything more than a little tipsy, but then again if he had legs like that, he'd be tripping over them every time he tried to walk in a straight line, adding alcohol to the equation could be a disaster.

 

They all spilled out onto the pavement one by one. Yongguk and Junhong made it first, followed by Daehyun, then Himchan, with Jongup and Youngjae last.

 

“I'll grab you a taxi.” Himchan said while Yongguk helped Junhong into his coat.

 

“My car isn't far.” Yongguk didn't have to remind them that he was below the limit, Himchan had seen how little he'd drank.

 

“Moon Jongup?” The six of them all turned their heads. Jongup watched a man push off from where he leant against the bar's external wall, mid height with messy hair and a cigarette smouldering between his fingers.

 

“Ha Jooho.” Jongup replied with a tight smile, “Been a while.”

 

Jooho chuckled and took in another deep drag of his cigarette. He glanced at the others, and Jongup noticed his eyes meeting Yongguk's own, before he returned his gaze to Jongup's and his lips spread into his best charming grin, “I'm glad I bumped into you, you're looking good.” He said, then added with a wink, “You haven't been answering my calls.”

 

“I've been busy.” Jongup responded flatly.

 

“Aah yeah... Sorry you're out with your friends, I'll leave you alone. When you have time... Call me, yeah?” Jooho flashed his white teeth in a crooked grin and flicked his cigarette butt onto the wet ground. It landed in a puddle and its red tip glowed a moment before it was extinguished by the surrounding damp, and by then the bar door was already swinging closed.

 

“A friend of yours?” Youngjae asked. He'd stepped closer, and his assessing gaze was focused on Jongup's face.

 

“We went to University together.” Jongup said. They didn't linger there in the cold, but as they turned to head their seperate ways, Jongup couldn't help but notice the way Himchan watched him go.

 

*

 

Heavy footsteps fell into half melted snow and droplets of mud went flying. The first glow of sunlight was only just starting to lick the horizon when Shim Sangjin left home to walk his dog along the rugged paths that twisted along the side of the mountain. He had always liked that he could walk for miles without meeting another person, and still make it home with enough time to cook his wife and their three growing children a breakfast to keep their bellies warm. Sometimes, when it was clear, he followed the paths down behind the old Kwon farm and under the railway bridge to the western side of the mountain, where he could just make out the golden glow of Seoul lingering in the distance. It wasn't so far away as the crow flies, he knew, but something about it seemed so magical as it glittered between dew slicked branches, never sleeping, always thriving.

 

“Huchu, c'mere boy!” He called out to the loping mass of honey fur, already matted with mud as the dog's wagging tail disappeared into the shrubbery. Huchu barked and panted and scratched his front paws against the ground as he chased scents through the air and his breaths creating billowing clouds. “What have you found, you silly boy.” Sangjin chuckled warmly and ducked under a branch before Huchu's strength could pull him into it. Originally, he hadn't been fond at the idea of a dog, but the kids put forward a persuasive argument, and he crumbled under their pleading eyes like sand against the sea. His son had pleaded for it to be a Pomeranian, something small and cute, while his girls both agreed a Retriever was perfect for a home with kids, but there was something about Poodles that made Sangjin feel warm inside, with their long and clumsy legs, and soft curled fur. They were friendly, too, or at least Huchu was.

 

Huchu barked again, but this time it wasn't playful, it was frantic, scared, “Huchu, boy what's wrong-” Sangjin ducked down again and followed Huchu's trail a little way further off the path.

 

“Oh my god...”

 

There, laying on the frozen ground before him was the body of a woman, her burned fingers folded neatly together over her chest, and with her mouth sewn shut.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaaaah chapter two is already up!!! I'm starting to feel super super good about this fic, and I cannot wait to share more. I wanna add that Huchu means Pepper, which I thought was the kinda cute thing someone would name a poodle. I hope you liked this!


	4. Chapter 4

The call came not long after dawn, when Jongup was still twisted in blankets and wrapped in dreams. Lights flickered across his vision as he skimmed between sleeping and awake until the blaring sound of his ringing phone jolted him. He reached blindly for it across the mattress and brought it against his ear.

 

“Hello?” He asked gruffly. He felt movement on the mattress and peeked open one eye to watch the approaching body of his cat, Goyangie, and welcomed her with half a smile against his chest. For a moment the other end of the line was silent, and Jongup stroked his fingers gently down the length of her side, he could feel her purrs rumbling through her form as her eyes fell closed and she chased sleep again, warmed by his skin.

 

Static crackled, then Yongguk's voice came rumbling into Jongup's ear, _“She's been found.”_

 

It took all of seven minutes for Jongup to be dressed and on the road. A man had found her while walking his dog, Yongguk had said, on the side of a mountain east of Seoul. He hadn't known how long she had been there, but Junhong would, and he assured uniformed officers were watching over her every moment until she could be brought back to the Unit's examination rooms. It saddened Jongup to know she had to end up there, her bare back pressed against the cold and sterile metal of Junhong's examination table to be cut open and taken apart like machinery for scrap. He just hoped their search through her body would give her a name, so that she didn't have to spend eternity alone.

 

The roads were still mostly empty so early in the morning, and Jongup made it out of the city and into the mountains before the sun had fully risen. Red and blue lights flashed through the trees and Jongup could see them when he was only half way up the mountain. Families were peering through open curtains as he drove past, parents holding their children close as they watched on in horror. He didn't know how fast news spread around there, but he guessed it was already filtering its way through phone lines and across social media. Nothing could be kept secret these days. Well, almost nothing.

 

He parked between two police cars, and held his overcoat closed against the morning wind with his left hand, while his right flipped open his identification wallet to flash his badge to the officers standing guard along the expanse of fluorescent crime scene tape. One of them lifted it up for him, and he ducked underneath and into the cordoned off carpark beyond. It wouldn't be long before the crowds started to gather, it was good they'd set up a perimeter to keep them out. No one should have to see what Jongup was about to.

 

Uniformed officers were rushing around him, and every now and then a siren sounded while lights flashed and refracted off the surrounding trees, illuminating everything in an eery red and blue glow. Ahead of Jongup was the path that lead down into the trees, but he saw the ambulance parked not far within the perimeter and veered towards it instead. Both the back doors were hanging open, and a man was sitting on the ledge with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, and a Poodle seated at his feet. He was rubbing his fingers across the creases in his forehead, while Himchan nodded along to what he was saying with his arms folded across his chest. Not even early mornings could ruffle Himchan, Jongup observed as he came closer. The agent was wearing the same sleek overcoat he had the day before, and he somehow appeared _rested_ which was frankly just unfair.

 

Himchan noticed Jongup as he came closer, and greeted him with a single nod of his head. Jongup reciprocated it.

 

“Thank you for your help, Mr. Shim.” Himchan said with a solemn smile, “I'm going to get someone to take you and Huchu back home, but one of our Uniformed officers is going to need to come take an official statement in a little while.”

 

“Of course, of course. Thank you, Detective Kim.” The elder man said earnestly, and as Himchan bowed and turned away, a uniformed officer came forward to escort him home.

 

“He find her?” Jongup asked, falling into step alongside Himchan.

 

“Mm.” He said, “Or, well, his dog did. I'll make sure the local police check in on him over the next few days, see if he's doing okay.”

 

Jongup didn't need to respond, so he nodded instead. In front of them, the uniformed police had began rolling back the yellow crime scene tape to allow another car through, a black sedan not too unlike Himchan's own that pulled to a stop only a few metres away. The two agents walked towards it as the driver's door opened and Junhong stepped out and ran his fingers hastily through his mess of dark hair and flashed them half a smile.

 

“I'm sorry I'm late, I had to stop by HQ to grab my kit.” He said. He was wearing the same clothes he had been the night before, with an overcoat that sat too-big on his slight form and a small silver stud pressed through his right nostril. The cabin light stayed on a moment after the Doctor slammed his door closed, and Jongup saw an empty mug of what he assumed had once been coffee tilting haphazardly in the centre console's cupholder, with the butt of a cigarette laying sodden and extinguished in the bottom. Himchan must have seen it, too, because he followed Junhong round to the boot of the car and helped him open it.

 

“You okay?” He asked in a lower tone.

 

“Why wouldn't I be.” Junhong replied. He was stripping off his coat and pulling out a folded plastic suit he could pull on over his clothes to prevent contamination of the crime scene. It made a loud sound when he slid his feet into its protective guards, like the crinkling of a tarpaulin on the ground.

 

“Does Bbang know you've started smoking again?” Himchan folded his arms and watched Junhong zip up, “He hates it when you do.”

 

“What I do in my personal time isn't a concern of Yongguk's.” Junhong grabbed his bag and slammed the boot closed, “He's not my boyfriend, he's my boss. Where is she?”

 

Himchan watched Junhong for a moment with pursed lips, then tipped his head in gesture towards the path disappearing into the trees, “She's down there.”

 

They followed the path down the side of the mountain, to where they could look out and over Seoul glittering on the horizon. The sun was already up and bathing the quiet forest around them with a soft yellow glow, and the red and blue bustle of the carpark above was barely noticeable. The uniformed officer leading their way, Park, gestured off and between the trees once they made it to a pair of guarding cops, and all three men ducked low under the branches to make their way off the path to where the body lay lifeless between melting piles of snow. Himchan and Jongup paused to pull gloves on over their cold fingers while Junhong stepped forward and set his case down beside her.

 

Twigs and sticks were twisted in her hair that fanned out over the ground around her, her hands were folded too neatly across her stomach, and red thread had been stitched across her mouth with careful precision. She hadn't just been dumped, she'd been posed.

 

“Good morning...” Junhong started in a hushed tone, “My name is Dr. Choi, but you can call me Junhong. I'm going to be looking after you from now on.” He spoke softly as his gloved hands moved along the exposed skin of her wrist, feeling the texture of her muscle through the latex with his brows furrowed, “I'm sorry we don't know your name, but I promise we are going to find it, just like we are going to find the person who did this to you. Is it alright if for now I call you Noona?”

 

Himchan stood back with his arms folded and watched the way Junhong's fingers pressed into her forearm, then her bicep. Every touch was gentle, like she was alive and he was doing his best to examine her without causing pain, or discomfort. “With the extent of rigor mortis what it is, I estimate she must have died at least thirty hours ago, but I can get a more accurate timing back at the lab.”

 

“That would be consistent with what the paramedics told Daehyun yesterday morning.” Himchan noted. His eyes were focusing on the red thread sewn between her lips, “This is new.”

 

Junhong followed Himchan's gaze and grimaced. He gently rest her arm back down across her stomach and moved to gesture with the tip of his pinky finger at where the red thread penetrated her skin, “These were put here a long time post mortem. See how there's no blood or swelling around the puncture marks?”

 

“What about her fingers?” Jongup came closer. Junhong glanced at him, then down at her hands.

 

“There's a little bit of blistering where they've been burned. I don't think she was alive, but it must have been pretty soon after death.” He frowned, then glanced around her body, “I need to take some samples from the scene, then get her back to the lab and take a better look.”

 

Himchan nodded his head and straightened up again, “You, call four more officers down here. I want them surrounding the scene's perimeter while the doctor works.” He said to Park standing a little way off towards the pathway, who withdrew his radio from its holster and spoke quickly into it.

 

“Do I need a babysitter?” Junhong asked without lifting his head. His fingers were feeling slowly along her scalp, like he was giving her a massage.

 

“No, but if Yongguk found out I left you alone in the forest with a body that's already been stolen once, hers wouldn't be the only liver you'd be weighing this afternoon.” Himchan turned back to Park as footsteps started approaching down the mountain path. Jongup could already see fluorescent green peaking between the trees as the police advanced, “Where does the path go?”

 

Park dug around in his pocket, and withdrew a map. It was creased and bent, the laminated coating around it cracking to disfigure names of roads and towns and Jongup could see him squinting down at it, then looking wide eyed around them to determine their location.

 

“Down the side of the mountain.” Jongup provided. Himchan and the Uniform both turned towards him, “It follows the waterways to where they meet the river at the bottom of the valley. There's a carpark there, and other walking tracks.”

 

Uniforms flooded the pathway, then came through the trees and stood around Junhong while Jongup followed Himchan back towards the mountain path, with Park taking up their tail. It was steep, and Jongup knew it would only get steeper as it descended into the valley, corroded from years of rain and weather weighing down onto it.

 

“You know the area well?” Park puffed. He was stout, middle aged, one of the senior attending officers at the scene. He had a kind face, though, creased from expression and worn by wind.

 

“I grew up not far from here.” Jongup said, with his hands tucking back into his pockets to keep the tips of his fingers warm.

 

“Aah, I did my service nearby. Quite a long time ago now, when you would have been just a wee little thing.” Park chuckled. Ahead of them, Himchan kept his gaze focused forward, but Jongup knew he was listening.

 

“The old base near the lake?” Jongup turned to glance back at Park.

 

“The very one! Spent some very long summer nights down by the water there. A beautiful spot, beautiful spot.” Park rubbed his hands together, “You know it?”

 

As a boy, Jongup had found it fascinating, the big stone walls wrapped around the complex hidden away between the trees. He'd always loved the forest, and in summer he'd often take off his shoes and feel the damp grass soft between his toes, or climb up into the trees in search of squirrel's hideaways, or birds nests. He didn't want to disturb them, though, he just liked looking at them, learning about them. Everything seemed so magical to him, and he wanted to understand where it was that birds chose sticks to build their nests, how deer knew the best food to eat, and why in the middle of nature, man would want to build a wall.

 

“Very well.” Jongup nodded.

 

“Did you do your service there, too?”

 

“No.” Jongup replied, “I haven't done my service.”

 

On the side of the mountain, in the shade the snow had yet to thaw, but the path was still slick with wet from the rain that loosened pebbles and stones and when Park stepped somewhere unsteady, he stumbled. Jongup was quick, though, and extended out an arm to catch him.

 

“You okay?”

 

“My-my.” He chuckled again, one hand gripping Jongup's bicep through his coat as he nodded, “I'm fine, I'm fine, but I don't know if my legs are steady enough to get me much further.”

 

“Will you be alright to get back?” Park straightened up and nodded his head.

 

“Don't you fuss about me, but take this.” He slipped his radio from its holster at his waist and pressed it into Jongup's hand, “Radio up if you need anything, yes?” Jongup nodded, and Park's hands drew back from around his upper arm. He turned and followed the pathway back the way they'd come, and it was only a few moments before he'd disappeared from sight, and Jongup felt like he and Himchan could be the only human life for miles.

 

The path grew more unsteady the further they went down, eventually growing so steep it was cut into stairs only stabilised by the odd plank of mossy, rotting wood. Creeks that ran down the side of the mountain had overflown from the recent rain, and in parts it flooded the pathway, sending them clambering between trees and over brambles to avoid the slipping mud. Sticks crunched under Jongup's boots, and in his hand the radio buzzed to life, _“Detective Moon, can you hear me?”_ Park's voice crackled through static.

 

“Loud and clear.” A bird launched off from a nearby branch, and Jongup ducked.

 

“ _The coroner has just come to collect the body. Dr. Choi is just finishing off, and he's getting ready to leave.”_ Park said. Jongup could hear voices in the background, then the rumble of an engine, _“I'm sending a squad car down with a couple of officers to meet you at the river, just in case you need assistance.”_

 

“Thank you, we'll meet them down there.” With a click the transmission ended, and Jongup tucked the radio back into his pocket.

 

“Do you make a habit of befriending uniform at every crime scene you attend?” Himchan said, without glancing over his shoulder.

 

“I don't usually attend crime scenes, but I figure being nice to people is only going to work in my favour.” Jongup's breath fanned out in a billowing cloud, and he tucked his hand deeper into his pockets to try and bring a little more feeling back to his fingertips.

 

“What do you mean you don't _usually attend_?” Finally, Himchan stopped and turned to face Jongup. His brows were furrowed low over his eyes, and his lips dragged downward, “You haven't done your service, you don't visit crime scenes, tell me how _exactly_ you got chosen for this?”

 

“The criteria by which you were chosen isn't the only criteria available.” Jongup said evenly.

 

“Oh yes of course, I was put on this case because I'm good at my job, but there's any number of reasons how someone else could be selected.” Himchan pursed his lips and stood back to look Jongup head to toe, “I know the name and family of everyone in government, so I think it's safe to rule out nepotism.” Himchan held up one finger, as though ticking things off a list, “You're young and attractive enough, but I don't think the police commissioner is into boy toys, she's too smart for that, but the minister of defence has made questionable decisions in the past and from how easily you have the Uniform fawning over you, I'm sure you could talk your way into his bed quite quickly.”

 

Jongup didn't laugh, though he felt tempted, “You really think I need to sleep with politicians to get a job?”

 

“Wouldn't be the first time someone's tried.” Himchan scoffed, “What about your service, though? Are you a coward, or do you just like avoiding responsibility?”

 

“Maybe I'm a conscientious objector.”

 

“What, you don't like violence, so you became a cop?” Out of the corner of Jongup's eye something moved, then the sound of crunching sticks echoed through the trees.

 

“Did you hear that?” He asked.

 

“Hear what?” Himchan folded his arms over his chest. The sound came again, this time closer to the pathway and Himchan turned towards it. Blackberry bushes were twisting between close growing tree trunks with beads of crystal water dripping from the tips of their branches. Everything was very still, other than the puffing clouds of breath sliding from their mouths with every exhale.

 

Very slowly, Jongup pulled his radio from his pocket, “Park?” He said quietly.

 

It buzzed and murmured for a moment, then came to life again, _“Detective Moon, what can I help you with?”_

 

“Those officers you sent, they wouldn't happen to be coming to meet us on the path, would they?” Himchan gestured with his head, and Jongup nodded. Both of them quietly took a single step forward, towards the edge of the forest.

 

“ _No, they'll wait for you by the river.”_ Park said, _“Is something wrong?”_

 

“I think... We've got company.” Himchan took another step forward, and a stick broke under his weight with the faintest crack. Everything went silent and a cloud passed over the sun, casting a shadow through the forest. Jongup's eyes were searching between the trees, hoping he would find the arching spine of a deer, maybe a rabbit searching through the undergrowth but instead he met the dark eyes of a man.

 

For a beat, they just looked at one another until in a sudden rush of movement, the figure launched himself out from where he hid in the brambles and took off at a run down the sloping hill towards the river, making Himchan curse, “Shit! Go down the path, try and cut him off!” He said over his shoulder as he leapt over the twisting brush and into the forest and Jongup didn't hesitate before he was doing as asked.

 

He took the stairs two at a time in his race to beat the man to the bottom of the mountain. His feet landed in muddy puddles, sending splashes up the legs of his pants, while water started to seep into his shoes and around his toes. Through the trees he could see flashes of colour, the murky green of the man's jacket then the charcoal grey of Himchan's coat getting closer and closer. The man ducked and swerved through the trees quickly, and though Himchan was hot on his heels, he couldn't quite keep up his pace and the space between them was starting to widen.

 

Jongup's thighs were burning in protest as he stumbled his landing on the final steps, and ahead of him the path was opening out to where he could see the river glittering in the sunlight. It wouldn't be much further before he could round the corner and cut the man off, he'd thought, but by the time he was spilling out onto the road, he'd lost sight of him. He looked around, his chest heaving and face flushed red, for any sign of movement between the trees, but the man had vanished.

 

“Where'd he go?” Himchan grunted once he'd broken free of the brush. His shoes and pants were a mess of mud, and somewhere along the way a tree branch had sliced across his cheek. Jongup shook his head and Himchan's hand ran through his hair in frustration, “ _Fuck!”_

 

Static was crackling from the radio gripped tightly in Jongup's hand and Park was calling his name, _“Moon? Detective Moon? What's happening?”_

 

“We lost him.” Jongup panted into the air.

 

*

 

Jongup didn't notice the sound of the elevator anymore as it rocked its way underground and opened up with a wheeze. Mud was caking the soles of his shoes and around the hem of his pants, and while the automatic doors to Junhong's lab opened with a melodic _ding_ he scuffed his feet on the comic _Welcome_ mat positioned outside.

 

“Here he is!” Daehyun said. He was standing in the doorway to Junhong's office, holding a paper cup in each hand, and he extended one towards Jongup as the man approached.

 

“Sorry I'm late.” He said. Through the glass that separated the lab from the cutting room, Jongup could see Junhong and Youngjae both wearing lab coats and aprons, with caps covering their hair as they stood over their identified woman who lay on her back with her naked body concealed by a white sheet up to her neck.

 

“ _No worries. You haven't missed anything yet. We're just about to open her up.”_ Junhong's voice came through a speaker and he pulled a face mask on over his mouth just as Jongup stepped into his office. It wasn't big, but it was comfortable. The floor was polished cement, with a colourful rag rug spread across it that looked soft to the touch, and although a large desk took up the entire right wall, the left half was reserved for a comfortable looking red couch, complete with neatly arranged pillows and a selection of blankets folded and piled together at one end. Along the wall opposite the door was a selection of neatly drawn anatomical illustrations, coloured and labelled with intricate precision. First was a heart, beside it a skull with the flesh stripped back and each muscle detailed against bone, and finally came a human eye. They were beautiful, in a Frankenstein-esque kind of way, and Jongup remembered the image placed on Yongguk's desk that ran along a similar theme. He made a point with himself of not thinking about that too deeply.

 

“Thanks.” Jongup smiled to Daehyun as he took the cup of steaming coffee from his hand and turned to face the window. Himchan and Yongguk were already taking up most of the couch, and as Junhong's knife made the first incision, Daehyun stepped forward to perch himself precariously against one arm rest.

 

“Himchan told us you met someone in the woods.” Yongguk said, but he didn't take his eyes from where Junhong was folding back the skin of their victim's torso with careful hands.

 

“I don't know if met was the right term.” Jongup leant against the wall and took in a long sip of the hot drink. Himchan's gaze was focused foreward, but from where he stood Jongup could see the scratch on his cheek had been cleaned, and was hardly noticeable at all. His elbows were resting on his knees, and he'd managed to change clothes since returning to HQ. If only Jongup had been so lucky.

 

“ _Unidentified female, estimated between ages thirty and thirty-three.”_ Junhong said, to the tape recorder perched not too far off, _“Autopsy has began at oh-nine-three-seven hours by Doctor Choi Junhong, with Doctor of Psychology Yoo Youngjae assisting.”_

 

“ _Do you really need to say the_ 'of Psychology' _bit every time?”_ Youngjae rolled his eyes, and from the way Junhong's eyes crinkled, Jongup could tell he was smiling behind his mask.

 

“ _There are no signs of abrasions or wounds, defensive or otherwise on the victim's body.”_ Junhong continued on.

 

“Any sign of cause of death?” Yongguk's arms were folded over his chest and he watched every movement of Junhong's hands from beneath furrowed brows.

 

“ _Not as of yet, no. I'll need to check her lungs for water, and run some other tests on her heart and kidneys.”_ Junhong looked up and through the window towards Yongguk, _“She's been scrubbed clean, though. There was nothing under her nails, and the only things I've found in her hair or on her clothes so far have been sticks and leaves from the scene today.”_

 

“Running tests on her heart and kidneys, you mean like for natural causes?” Himchan shifted forward in his seat.

 

“ _Clearly someone has taken and dumped her body, but she hasn't been strangled or hit over the head, shot, stabbed or anything.”_ Junhong gestured to her body with his right hand.

 

“Suffocated?” Daehyun tried.

 

The doctor moved up alongside her and used the pad of his thumb to gently lift the upper id of hr left eye, then gestured at the whites with his pinky finger, _“If she were suffocated she'd have ruptured blood vessels in her eyes, or across her face, and usually there would be some kind of defensive damage to her fingertips. Broken nails, scratch marks et-cetera.”_

 

His voice was static through the microphone with the whirring of the extractor fans rhythmic and constant in the background.

 

Jongup wasn't sure how long they sat there, watching the two doctors dismantle her body piece by piece. It was hard to watch when they used tools to crack open her ribcage so Junhong could reach inside of her chest cavity and pull her apart like pieces of a puzzle. First they took out her heart and weighed it on the scales, then her lungs, then liver. Junhong narrated every movement and touch, making note to his later self of everything he saw, everything he noticed that he may want to revisit. Somewhere after her bones cracked Daehyun's face had gone grey, and he was trying to look everywhere except the body, though Himchan and Yongguk remained intent.

 

“ _Hey Jun, do you smell that?”_ Youngjae asked. Junhong had poured the contents of her stomach onto the scale to weigh, and now Youngjae was transferring it into a container to be re-examined closely later.

 

“ _Smell what?”_ Junhong asked. His head was bent over her liver, and he was moving his fingertips across it slowly, searching for abnormality.

 

“ _It's like... I don't know but I... It's...”_ The stuttered words had Junhong looking up from his examination just in time to watch Youngjae crash to the floor, unconscious.

 

“Youngjae!”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Thank you so much for reading. I know this chapter is pretty Cop heavy- but I hope it was still interesting, and exciting and maybe even intriguing. Love x


	5. Chapter 5

“Youngjae!” Daehyun shouted as he leapt from his seat.

 

In less than a moment, Junhong was snapping latex gloves from his hands and slamming his palm against a red button on the wall, causing the constant whirring of the extractor fans to intensify. He rushed to the doctor's side and pressed his fingers to the side of his neck.

 

“ _Call an ambulance!”_ He said first, then glanced up to the window, _“I need someone to come in here and help me carry him to the lift, but make absolute sure you put on a mask first, and don't touch anything.”_

 

Himchan hadn't waited for Junhong to finish his sentence by the time he was rushing from the office and through the lab to the scrub in room, though Jongup saw Yongguk release a sigh of relief that the detective was wearing a mask when he made it finally into the theatre. Together he and the doctor lifted Youngjae from the floor, their strong arms supporting his weight carefully as they lead him back across the cutting room towards the showers and the elevator beyond.

 

With his phone pressed to his ear, Daehyun rushed through Junhong's lab with Jongup and Yongguk not far behind him and they made it back to the rickety elevator just in time to see a grey faced Youngjae blinking his eyes slowly open. Junhong and Himchan each had an arm around his middle, and the psych's head lulled as he slowly came to.

 

“You idiot, did you skip breakfast again?” Himchan grunted, pretending to be annoyed, though his relief was palpable, “I've told you before that it doesn't matter if you're hungry or not, you need to eat before work.”

 

Youngjae laughed weakly, “And I told _you_ I hate eating before pm's.” He said, then promptly bent over forwards and vomited on the floor.

 

Daehyun made a face, “I think he ate.” He said.

 

Daehyun and Himchan followed Youngjae up and above ground to meet the ambulance that drove in sirens blearing, but Junhong was determined to keep working. He didn't let anyone assist this time, but Yongguk sat silent and observant on the worn red couch and watched Junhong search through her body for answers to the questions piling up. It took another hour for Youngjae to be cleared by the paramedics, then an extra four on top of that for Junhong to complete the post mortem, but eventually they were all dropping into seats around a vast conference table in the Unit's meeting room, facing aprojector screen. Daehyun sat next to Jongup with a soft smile, then Himchan and Youngjae sat opposite them while Yongguk waited by the open door.

 

Junhong had taken off his scrubs and hair net and pulled back on his lab coat, but his face mask had simply been pulled down to under his chin while he linked up his laptop to the projector, and Yongguk turned off the lights. A series of X-Rays lit up the screen and Junhong tapped at his keyboard, sending a wave of images flicking through. First was a series of the body at the site she'd been found, then close up images of her eyes, her mouth with the dreadful stitches still pulled through, her hair, until finally it settled on one of her right hand. Her fingers were curved delicately downwards, like a ballet dancer in the middle of a plié, not a corpse laying limp in a morgue.

 

“Jae-hyung, how are you feeling?” Junhong finally asked and used the tip of his index finger to pull his face mask off so he could discard it beside the computer.

 

Youngjae lifted his head from where he sat and smiled weakly. He was still pale, but the half empty bottle of water he nursed between his palms was a good sign, “I'm fine, I'm fine.” he said, then looked up at the screen again, “Did she give you anything?”

 

Slowly, Junhong nodded, “She gave me a lot, actually. There were no defensive wounds, no signs of a struggle. Her heart and lungs were clear, but I found something in her stomach.” He clipped at his keyboard again, and Himchan leant back in his seat while watching their doctor expectantly. The image flicked to the inside of a large plastic container holding-

 

“Oh my god Junnie is that her _stomach contents?”_ Daehyun made a face and lifted his hand to obscure the screen from his vision. Junhong just rolled his eyes.

 

“I tested a sample of it, and another from her stomach lining and oesophagus.” He tapped the keyboard again, and the image went back to her hand, “And I found Hydrogen Cyanide.”

 

“Cyanide?” Youngjae asked, frowning and twisting his clear plastic bottle in his hands, “Is that what I was smelling?”

 

Junhong nodded, “It's colourless and tasteless, but the ability to smell it is hereditary, and from the looks of it that's a gene you have. The mask I was wearing must have stopped me from breathing in that much of it, but your nose and mouth weren't covered.”

 

“What does it smell like?” Daehyun glanced over towards Youngjae, who made a face.

 

“It was nutty, like almonds or walnuts. I also got a pretty strong whiff of stomach acid, though, so I don't know if that's thrown me.” He sounded unsure, but Junhong nodded his head again.

 

“Bitter almonds is how it's usually described.” He said.

 

“Hydrogen Cyanide is a gas, it was originally a pesticide until it started being used by the Nazis and Americans... You're saying she was gassed?” Himchan turned the conversation back on route. As much as he enjoyed the discussion of fragrant stomachs, he'd gladly return to the topic at hand.

 

“Not necessarily. I couldn't find any trauma in her lungs, nor any trace of it in her nose or sinuses, but sodium cyanide salts, when ingested, are converted into hydrogen cyanide by stomach acid. In its solid form, it wouldn't change the smell of whatever she was eating, and the concentration needed to kill her wouldn't taste like much either if it was mixed in. It's the fastest moving poison we know. If she'd eaten it... It wouldn't have taken more than fifteen minutes for her to die.” Junhong flicked back to the photo of her last meal, “And from looking at the progression of digestion, she ate pretty soon before she died.”

 

“So she was poisoned.” Jongup said.

 

Junhong nodded grimly and pressed his knuckles into his palm, “She was poisoned.” He confirmed.

 

“Not to take us back to the stomach acid thing, but wouldn't she have vomited?” Daehyun said, then gestured towards the grey faced Youngjae in a manner that read something along the lines of _here's one I prepared earlier._

 

The light in the room fluttered while Junhong flipped through the cycle of images again. Eerie shadows were cast across Junhong's face, while his teeth pressed into the inside of his cheek, and Himchan noted how much younger he looked in the dark. It was easy to forget how young he was sometimes, when the seven of them were engrossed in their work.

 

“She was cleaned.” The image set on a close up photo taken of her side, just beneath her left breast. Small red marks were pressed into the skin, faint and only a handful of them barely visible between patterns of livor mortis, but Junhong easily circled them with his finger like they were obvious, “It's an impression mark left by some kind of scrubbing brush, or steel wool. Everything was gone from under her nails, between her teeth, chin, neck, everywhere. I found trace evidence of bile in her throat, though. She was sick somewhere.”

 

“What about an ID?” Himchan urged, “Was there anything that could help with that?”

 

“I've in put both her DNA profile and dental imaging into medical and police data bases, but right now all we can do is wait for them to come up with a match.” Junhong sighed, he wasn't used to not having _answers._ Usually things were easier than this.

 

“What can we do?” Daehyun asked, turning already towards Yongguk who hadn't moved from his place just inside the door.

 

“There's something else.” Junhong said, before anyone could race away and he reached down into the pocket of his lab coat and pulled out a small jar. The lid was screwed on tight, but through the clear sides they could all see the wilted shape of a purple flower. Its petals were curling in to protect its centre, while the green stem plucked clean of leaves curved downward into a raw, torn edge.

 

“A flower?” Junhong held the jar out to Daehyun, who took it and peered through the glass at the delicate form, “From her hair?”

 

“From her throat.” Corrected Junhong, “I found it when I cut open the stitches on her mouth.”

 

“Why does everything have to be so fuckin' weird, why can't we just deal with any straight up murders? Hit and runs, break ins, jealous business partners who are in love with each other's wives-” Daehyun listed. Youngjae must have kicked him under the table, because the detective jolted and cut himself off with a groan, then set the jar down on the table.

 

“Because then we'd just be cops.” Yongguk said, glancing between Daehyun, Himchan and Jongup, “You three, look through missing persons, local police reports, community online bulletin boards, anything that could be helpful in finding us an ID, and try and tell me more about that flower while you're at it. Someone somewhere must be missing her, and that wasn't put there for no reason.”

 

“Yes, sir.” Himchan said evenly with an emphatic salute, and rose from his seat with the contained flower in hand.

 

Yongguk nodded, “Youngjae, evidence will still be coming in from the crime scene until this evening while Uniform continue to scour the forest. You feel up to helping Jun keep things organised?”

 

“You know it.” The man said with a half-convincing smile, “Though I wouldn't mind having some time to set up a profile with what we have so far.”

 

Yongguk nodded his head, “Take all the time you need. Jun-”

 

“I'll keep working on the samples I have. I want to know more about the thread used for her lips, too.” The doctor said, and Yongguk just nodded again. He knew better than to argue with their doctor.

 

Chairs scraped against the linoleum floor as the six men filed back out into the wide expanse of the Unit's main room, and while Daehyun, Jongup and Himchan all dropped back into their seats, Junhong made a bee line towards the elevator with Youngjae following along behind leaving Yongguk to retreat to his office alone. The televisions lining the wall offered a low hum of sound as fingertips travelled over keyboards, and printers chugged paper through their feeding teeth. The police databases were coming up with nothing, and Jongup could see Daehyun was getting more and more agitated as message boards and media outlets were following suit. Junhong had sent them through an array of photos of her, both from the crime scene that morning and from the sterile metal slab where she still lay in the laboratory below their feet, and the longer they stared the harder it was to look away. Before too long, Yongguk emerged from behind closed doors and made for the lift, while Youngjae joined them again and took a seat at the last empty desk. He spread case files around himself, and alternated between flicking through their yellowing pages and tapping rhythmically on his laptop with his eyebrows furrowed deeply and his lips turned into a serious frown.

 

The end of Jongup's pen was pressed between his full lips as he skimmed across encyclopaedias of floral life, when Daehyun emitted a grunt of frustration.

 

“What I don't understand...” He started and Jongup looked up. He'd risen from his seat a while before and, with his laptop still held in his hand, had been pacing back and forth under the twisting vine canopy a few metres from the bank of desks, “Why would he steal her, only to dump her again? It's a waste of time, and an unnecessary risk.”

 

“Maybe they thought she'd be less likely to be found out there?” Youngjae suggested.

 

“ _He_?” Jongup prompted Daehyun's assumption.

 

Daehyun set his computer back on his desk, but instead of sitting down he pressed his palms flat to the surface and twisted his back to stretch out his tired muscles, “Well it was a man you and Hyung chased through the woods, wasn't it? Statistically, a murdered woman is much more likely to have been killed by a man. Jealous or violent ex or current partner, some kind of honour killing by a family member, someone she rejected in a bar.” He listed, but Youngjae shook his head.

 

“They wouldn't poison her. Crimes like that are violent and hot blooded, not calculated, and if we are talking _statistics,_ poison is a much more frequent _MO_ for women.”

 

“Whoever it was wanted us to find the body.” Himchan said, and all eyes turned to him. He had a pair of glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, and Jongup could see the reflection of his computer screen dancing in the lenses and obscuring his eyes, “If they didn't want us to, they wouldn't have posed her.”

 

“If they wanted us to find the body, why would they steal her?” Daehyun asked and Himchan leant back in his seat and folded his arms across his chest while his gaze shifted finally from the screen of his computer to focus instead on the framed photo of the beautiful woman that sat just to the right of it. For a moment, he thought, and his lips twisted while he sucked on his teeth.

 

“To show us that they could.” Jongup pointed out, “It's like a carrot held in front of a horse's nose. They gave us the body, only to take her away again.”

 

“And you think whoever it was you chased through the woods was trying to steal her again?” Youngjae didn't quite look convinced, but Jongup shook his head.

 

“No, I don't. Her mouth was sewn shut for a reason, and it was done in the twenty-four hours between her disappearance, and re-discovery. We have her because they wanted us to have her.” His fingers slipped around the glass jar holding the wilted purple flower and he held it up for everyone to see, “They wanted us to have _this.”_

 

A low buzzing came from where Himchan's phone was turned face down on the desk, and the detectives all turned to watch as he flipped it over and swiped his thumb over the screen.

 

“Kim.” He said, in lieu of a greeting and lifted his left hand to massage at his creased forehead with the tips of his fingers as he listened to the voice echoing down the line. The call only lasted for a minute, then he was rising to his feet and grabbing his coat from where it was slung over the back of his chair, “They've finished writing up all the witness statements from the scene. They should be sending them through to you now, Daehyun-ah.”

 

Daehyun frowned and watched Himchan tuck his phone, wallet and keys into the pockets of his coat once he had it on, “Where are you going?”

 

“Some new physical evidence has come in from uniform. I'm going to take a look, and get a breath of fresh air.” He said.

 

“I'll join you.” Youngjae said and grabbed his own coat and phone.

 

Himchan nodded and made for the stairs with Youngjae hot on his heels, and when the rickety elevator doors quivered open, they stepped inside together. Himchan had to press the button for street level three times before the elevator moved, then folded his arms and leant back against the dented metal walls.

 

“Jongup is good.” Youngjae started as he rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet, his keen eyes watching as numbers illuminated up the screen above the doors. 6, 5, 4, and onwards ticking down as the elevator rose from below ground. To anyone standing outside the cabin, it would appear that the carriage was lowering from the sixth floor, rather than rising from under the street, a safety measure added in so the uniformed police officers stationed in that building would never truly know where the detectives worked. They'd been told, when the Unit moved into the building, that the Seoul police headquarters no longer had room for the entirety of their criminal investigation unit, and that they needed the real estate of the vacant top floor to move in one of their squads. Youngjae had rolled his eyes the first time he learned of the decoy office, but then again he knew he'd find it uniquely satisfying if anyone ever succeeded to break into the fortified level and found it empty after all. _Like catching smoke_ , Yongguk had called it.

 

Himchan didn't respond to Youngjae's comment, and the psychologist turned his head to watch the man staring at his own clouded reflection in the gunmetal grey of the doors.

 

“Don't you think so?” He prompted, Himchan made a noncommittal sound. “I like the way he thinks, he's smart. Attractive, too.”

 

“You should ask him out.” The detective stated in a deadpan.

 

“Very funny.” Youngjae shook his head and rolled his eyes. The doors rolled open and Himchan moved past the front desk and towards the building's main entrance. It had rained again, and the sun had already long since retired for the night, leaving the slender laneway out the front of the building illuminated only by colourful neon signs hanging from the façades of the surrounding buildings. Himchan tightened his coat at his front and puffed out a cloud of breath as he and Youngjae descended down the steps.

 

“I haven't put much thought into whether he'd be into that, though.” Himchan commented and Youngjae quirked an eyebrow.

 

“Into guys?” He asked.

 

“Into shrinks.” Himchan replied, with the corner of his lips twitching upwards into an amused half-smile.

 

Youngjae rolled his eyes for the second time, “I wasn't mentioning it for my benefit. I'm just curious, Hyung. He's smart, definitely attractive, driven.” Youngjae waved his hand as he spoke, and Himchan had to reach out and grab his wrist to make him stop.

 

“And?” He questioned.

 

“You've been single a while...”

 

“Are you this transparent in your psycho analysis of your patients, or is it just your friends?” Cold water splashed out from beneath Himchan's boots. They were still caked with mud from when they'd been out in the field that morning, though he'd managed to change his clothes since. God, that felt like an age ago. He ran his palm down his face and barely smothered the urge to yawn.

 

“I know it's weird to not work with Dae, but Jongup's good at what he does.” Youngjae's tone was more serious this time, his brows furrowed.

 

“You know that for a fact, do you?” Himchan sighed and stopped to turn and look at Youngjae head on.

 

“I know for a fact that he wouldn't be here if he wasn't.” The doctor pointed out, “Yongguk trusts him.”

 

“Yongguk doesn't trust anyone.” Himchan dismissed, but Youngjae shook his head.

 

“He trusts you.”

 

For a long moment, Himchan just looked at Youngjae. He'd been young when they first met, not that much older than Junhong was now, but he'd been quick to weasel his way right into Himchan's soft spot, just like all the dongsaeng's had. His expression softened and he reached out to gently rub his fingers through the younger's hair affectionately.

 

“Are you feeling better?” He changed the subject. Some colour was returning to Youngjae's cheeks, and the tip of his nose flushed a soft pink in the cold.

 

“Yeah, I'm fine. No need to worry about me.” Youngjae rolled his eyes, but Himchan knew he liked the fact that he cared.

 

“Come on, lets go get some food to bring back for the others. Hyung's treat.”

 

_*_

 

After Himchan and Youngjae left, the wide open room went quiet again. Jongup's dark eyes glued to the screen of his laptop as he flicked between botanical encyclopaedias and local newspapers. It just couldn't be possible that no one had reported their victim missing. A yawn pulled at his chest, and he lifted a hand to smother it, while his eyes skimmed across lines of printed and scanned text. A local farmer in a small town in Gyeonggi-do had managed to harvest unseasonably large root vegetables, and a photo of her smiling toothily was printed below the article, while a school teacher in Jeolla had lead his year five students to a swimming competition victory at a local gala, and boasted how they would be ready to have safe fun in the local rivers and lakes once summer eventually arrived. It seemed like the peninsula had been slow on news in the preceding weeks, a missing woman would certainly have made headlines.

 

“ _On this historic day, we watch as President Moon Jaein meets with North Korean leader, Kim Jongeun in a summit for peace that re-shapes the future across the Korean peninsula.”_ The volume rose on one of the television sets, and Jongup drew his eyes away from his laptop screen. He blinked a couple of times to clear his vision, and watched as two men whose faces he knew too well greeted one another like old friends and held hands as they stepped from one Korea to the next.

 

“I forgot this was happening today.” Daehyun said from where he leant back against Himchan's desk, remote in hand and Jongup rubbed his forehead.

 

“Same. I didn't even think about it.” He replied and pushed himself up to round the desk and lean back against it beside Daehyun.

 

“Apparently there's been celebrations on the streets across the country. I bet my mum is crying somewhere.” He laughed and showed his straight, white teeth and his eyes crinkled. It was hard not to smile, too, at the sight of it.

 

“Where is she?” Jongup asked, but turned back to watch the footage playing across the screen.

 

“Busan, with my dad and brother. My grandma always used to talk about the war when we were kids. Man, if she was alive to see this she'd be beside herself.” Daehyun laughed, “What about you? You from Seoul?”

 

Jongup shook his head, “Just outside. Near where the body was found, actually.”

 

“Damn. Not the best reason to return home, huh.” Daehyun commented with a sigh and Jongup shrugged.

 

“There's not always such thing as a good reason.” He replied.

 

“I love my family, but sometimes I'm glad they're a long way away. It's easier to keep secrets from them if I don't see them, I guess.” Daehyun half smiled sadly and pushed himself off the desk, “Anyway, I'm gonna make myself a coffee. Want one?”

 

Jongup saw the sad look in Daehyun's eyes, and he got it. The hardest part about the life they lived was the lying, and he tried never to think about that long enough to come to the conclusion that it's why he didn't go home anymore. “I'm fine. Thank you, though.”

 

Daehyun pushed himself off the desk and headed towards the room beside the meeting space they'd all been in that morning. He flicked on the light and stretched his arms over his head, then headed to the back of the room, where the small kitchenette was set up for long nights they kept working until late, just like that one. For a moment, Jongup looked at the tv screen again, watched images of men and women embracing, some crying as they heard the news that the war might finally be over. It had been a long time coming, but he didn't think it could ever come soon enough.

 

He turned around and spied the frame positioned neatly on Himchan's desk of the beautiful woman smiling, and instead of returning to his seat, Jongup reached out a hand and picked it up. He'd seen Himchan staring at it on and off since the meeting had broken up earlier in the day, as though the sight of her smile and the snow dusting her hair would be enough to give him some kind of answers. It was a beautiful image, Jongup thought, but the closer he looked, the more he noticed the way the colours looked so fluid across the glossy finish, sharp at the centre but fading along the right edge, while on the left the hem of black clothing was just inching below the frame.

 

With a glance upwards, Jongup noticed that Daehyun still had his back to him, and so in one quick movement, he flipped over the frame and carefully pulled the backing from its place to reveal another half of the image, folded and concealed. It didn't take him even a second to realise that the photo was of Himchan, but not a Himchan he knew. This one was young, with eyes crinkled as he grinned to reveal big teeth he hadn't quite grown into yet, and his cheeks were flushed from the cold. Snow was dusting across his hair, too, while in the bottom right hand corner in vibrant orange letters the date was printed as _16.01.'02._

 

The coffee machine's buzz cut off, and Jongup hurried to fold the photo back and tuck it into the snug fit of its frame, then seal it in with the backing panel, but just as he was setting it back down onto the desk, Daehyun's voice called to him, “She's his sister.”

 

“What?” Jongup asked, and lifted his head. The Busan man was crossing the room towards him, with a steaming cup held tight in his hand and he quirked his brows and gestured towards the photo with his eyes.

 

“In the photo, she's his sister.” He said.

 

“She's beautiful.” Jongup commented, then straightened the frame on Himchan's desk to return it back to its approximate original location.

 

“She looked a lot like him, don't you think?” Daehyun took a sip of his drink and folded his arm over his chest.

 

Jongup glanced back down at the frame, and he could see it now. The way her lips curved upwards matched Himchan's almost perfectly, while she had a fullness to her cheeks and point to her nose that he didn't. Their eyes were the same, though, sharp and intelligent, and beautiful too, “Yeah... I guess she did.”

 

“They were really close, but she died when he was just about to finish up his service.” Jongup watched as Daehyun set his drink down on his desk, then dropped back into his seat.

 

“How?” He asked, but Daehyun shrugged.

 

“I don't know. He doesn't talk about it, and no one's ever wanted to ask. Yongguk probably knows, but he knows everything there is to know about everyone. He's pretty like that.” Then he smiled again, all teeth and lips and cheeks.

 

The elevator doors slid open with a ding, “Dinner!” Himchan called out as he and Youngjae carried a collection of plastic container filled bags between them.

 

Daehyun turned his head to watch the others descend down the stairs, while Jongup slipped from his side to drop back into his seat in front of the open lid of his laptop.

 

“God damn I'm starving, I haven't eaten since breakfast. What'd you get?” Daehyun groaned as Himchan set one of the bags on his desk and started rifling through it to get the containers spread out over the surface.

 

“Chicken, rice, there's some beef somewhere too, and Youngjae insisted on vegetables.” He replied as he cracked open lids, “Jae-yah, can you please get the plates and stuff from the kitchen?” Youngjae dumped his bags beside Himchan's and headed for the room Daehyun had vacated only a moment before.

 

“Fuck yes, Hyung, you really _are_ the love of my life.” Daehyun was peeking over his Hyung's shoulder and watching him reveal more and more of the food he'd chosen.

 

Himchan ignored him, though, when he was distracted by the framed photo sitting upright just to the right hand side of his open laptop screen, and reached over to straighten its angle until it sat just right. Jongup made a point of keeping his eyes fixed on his laptop screen, but he saw the way Himchan glanced up at him out of the corner of his eye.

 

“I got us six plates, has anyone called Yongguk-hyung and Junnie yet?” Youngjae said as he came back into the room and set the stack of crockery down onto his desk just in time for Daehyun to swoop in and start serving himself some food.

 

“Not yet.” Himchan grabbed a small piece of meat between his index and middle fingers and ate it while watching Daehyun, though he turned to Jongup once he'd swallowed and fixed him with an even gaze, “Jongup-ah, come and eat something.”

 

Youngjae had joined Daehyun by the containers, though he was more tentative as he selected food to add onto his plate, no doubt worried that his sensitive stomach would revisit him from earlier. The smell of the food was making Jongup's mouth water, but when he stood up it wasn't to join the others, “Thanks, I will in a minute. I'm going to quickly run down to the lab and let Junhong know there's food, but I wanted to return this, in case he needed it.” He took the jarred flower in hand and held it up for Himchan to see.

 

“Alright, but don't take too long.” Himchan said, gesturing to the other two already devouring their plates of food. Jongup's lips twitched into a half smile and he nodded, and headed for the elevator to carry him down to the silent labs beneath.

 

Automatic doors slid open with a soft ding, but the lab was empty. Through the window, Jongup could see that the cutting room had been thoroughly cleaned since the last time he was down there, and the body returned to the refrigerated capsules built into the wall. Along the benches on either side of the long lab, small evidence bags were lined up and organised, soil and fabric samples, collections of leaves and sticks Jongup presumed had been pulled from her hair. Stationed against the wall about a third of the way along, a mass spectrometer whirred as it separated ions and read molecules to print out for Junhong to study later. Up ahead, Jongup could hear music coming from the open office door, something soft with piano and violins and he made towards it expecting to see Junhong stationed behind his desk, but the seat was empty, and across the monitor screen flickered countless faces of young women as his computer shot through the country's medical database at lightning speed. Jongup turned his head and saw instead the young doctor was laying on his side across the worn red couch, his eyes closed in sleep, and his hands tucked under his cheek to cushion it as he slept. Standing over him was Yongguk with his slender fingers curled into the soft fabric of a threadbare blanket that he was laying over the Doctor's body.

 

His eyes were soft, and unreadable as he looked at Junhong's face, though glanced up once Jongup entered the room, and the detective paused and averted his gaze like he'd interrupted something too intimate for him to see.

 

“I'm sorry, sir, I didn't realise you were in here.” He said and focused his eyes on the opposite wall instead of where Yongguk's fingers were slipping tenderly through Junhong's dark hair.

 

“It's alright. He worked hard today and he fell asleep at his desk, I was just helping him settle down.” Yongguk rose, and he gave Jongup a tired smile that helped the younger's shoulders relax.

 

“What time is it?” Jongup asked, as he realised he didn't even know.

 

“Almost ten. You were up early this morning, too, you must be tired.” The director rounded the couch and stopped not far in front of him.

 

As if on cue, Jongup yawned and smacked a hand over his mouth to stifle it, though not without managing a soft laugh, “I guess I am. Detective Kim and Doctor Yoo brought some food back, I came down to let Doctor Choi know.”

 

“You can use their names, you know.” Yongguk rubbed his hand across the back of his neck to massage aching muscle, “They wouldn't mind.”

 

Jongup considered this for a moment, but before he could reply a low beeping sounded from the desk and both men turned to look at it. On the screen of Junhong's computer was the familiar face of a woman, with red letters blinking beneath it. _DNA Match found._

 

“Gotcha.” Yongguk said.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg so last night I pressed publish..... and then AO3 went down. I'm so sorry this is late, this past week has bee a bit of a comedy of errors for me, but it's here now, and I hope you enjoyed it!! In this chapter I used the phrase MO, which if you don't know is Latin and stands for _Modus Operandi_ , or _Method of Operation._ This is a phrase often used in criminology and investigation to describe the methods used by a perpetrator in committing their offence! 
> 
> Thank you so so much for reading, I really hope you enjoyed! Drop me a comment and let me know your thoughts, yeah? Winks winks kisses hugs smiles naps.


	6. Chapter 6

“Song Ahra, 32 years old.” Jongup announced from where he stood in front of the series of television screens in Unit 12's main room. The day's news was long forgotten, and instead a photo of the victim's smiling face took up the entirety of the central screen, while those around it showed lists of her personal details, birth date, blood type, taken from the record spurted out from Junhong's medical database search.

 

The Unit's central desk space was a mess of piled papers and empty plates with six chairs arranged around it and all eyes were focusing on Jongup as he gestured to the screen on the right, “She was born in Yangsan, just outside of Busan, and came to Seoul ten years ago to study medicine. Police records from last year have her listed as employed at a Dongdaemun branch of the Industrial Bank of Korea, but her most recent known residence is in Busan.”

 

“Police records? She's been in trouble with the cops before?” Daehyun frowned. He had the tip of a pen pressed between his full lips while his brows furrowed down over his eyes. Beside him Junhong was curled up in the small seat of an office chair, his eyes blinking sleepily and his form still wrapped up in the blanket Yongguk had tucked him under in his office. He was quietly listening to everything around him, even as his hand slipped out from between cotton folds and picked at the bits of food still left uneaten on his plate.

 

“She had a traffic violation. Nothing serious, just a fine she left unpaid for too long.” Yongguk provided.

 

Himchan quirked an eyebrow, “Lucky.” He noted.

 

“Very.” Yongguk agreed.

 

“Do we know much else about her? Family, relationships, work life?” Youngjae asked. The colour had all returned to his face, but his exhaustion was palpable, and Jongup couldn't help but give a defeated shrug.

 

“Not much.” Yongguk said regretfully, “All we know is from her medical records. I've passed on her ID to the federal police in Busan, and I'm waiting to hear back from their director.”

 

“Another unit?” Jongup asked.

 

“No, not a unit like us, just the regular feds. I'm hoping to call in a favour.” He responded.

 

Jongup nodded his head as he rounded the table to collapse back into his chair. The glass vial holding the wilted flower was still there, tucked safely between a stuffed manila folder, and a stack of three empty plates that tilted haphazardly with cutlery and chicken drumsticks that had each been chewed right down to the bone. Directly across from him, Jongup noticed Himchan's eyes were on the photo again while his index finger traced along the edge of the frame back and forth and back again.

 

As if on cue, Yongguk's mobile phone began to buzz from where it lay face down on Daehyun's desk. He grabbed it and with a glance at the screen, swiped his finger across and pressed it to his ear, “Bang.” He said, while taking a few steps back from the table. The others turned to one another to give him privacy for his conversation.

 

“She studied medicine, but she worked in a bank.” Youngjae mused as he pushed his plate further away towards where Junhong was still poking and prodding at his food. His eyes lit up momentarily as he picked up a small sliver of sliced tomato with his fingers and placed it on his tongue.

 

“You studied psychology but you work for the Police.” Daehyun said, and Youngjae rolled his eyes.

 

“I'm a criminal psychologist. My whole profession exists to work alongside the police.”

 

“And yet you get called Doctor.” Junhong said, or well, more _teased._

 

“Why do you always bring up the Doctor thing.” Youngjae sighed.

 

“Because nobody trusts a doctor without a stethoscope, it's like a dentist with bad teeth.” Daehyun gestured with his hand in the air.

 

“I never wear a stethoscope.” Junhong pouted from his blanket shroud and Daehyun rolled his eyes.

 

“Your patients don't exactly need to trust you, Jun.” He pointed out.

 

“I met a dentist with disgusting teeth once.” Himchan said and his words were muffled by a badly smothered yawn.

 

“Gross, and you still went through with the appointment?” Youngjae made a face.

 

Finally, Himchan looked up, “Oh no, no, I wasn't there for an appointment. He ate like seven people.”

 

“Oh.” Daehyun blanched, “Damn.”

 

Yongguk hung up the phone without so much as a goodbye and re-approached the table, “That was Busan. Director Sun says she can spare a few officers to look at the apartment in the morning. They'll speak to her parents, too.”

 

“Director Sun?” Daehyun made a face, “ _She's_ the one who owes you a favour?”

 

Himchan smacked the back of his old partner's head with the open flat of his palm, “He saved her life, remember?” He rolled his eyes, “You just don't like her because she turned down a date with you.”

 

Daehyun's lips pursed into a pout, “She didn't just turn me down she _laughed_ at me.”

 

“She's a lesbian, Daehyun, what did you expect?” Himchan sounded exasperated.

 

“Well I didn't know that, did I?!”

 

“Dae, it was seriously _so obvious-_ ”

 

“Enough.” Yongguk said, and both agents turned back towards him without a moment of hesitation, “Himchan, I want you and Jongup to visit her old workplace first thing in the morning, see what there is to know about her. Daehyun-ah, I need to know more about that flower, where it came from, and what it means. Get onto that first thing, yeah?”

 

“Yes, boss.” The southerner nodded.

 

“If she lived in Busan, what was she doing in Seoul?” Junhong said.

 

Youngjae hummed in thought for a moment and tapped at his lower lip, “I can't see why her killer would go to the effort of driving her all the way up here just to dump, steal and re-dump her body. They would have had to stay over night in Seoul for at least two nights, it's a risk.”

 

“I'll make sure the agents in Busan find out what car she drove. If she came up here herself, it has to be somewhere.” Yongguk replied. He was standing behind Junhong's chair and he rested both his hands on the young doctor's shoulders, “But right now, it's late and you've all worked hard today. Go home and try and get a good night's rest so you're all ready for tomorrow.”

 

“We can keep working, Hyung.” Daehyun said, but Yongguk just smiled.

 

“No. Rest.”

 

Youngjae carried the plates into the kitchen, and Jongup followed to help him stack them all in the dishwasher built into the cabinets. He dried his hands on a nearby tea towel as Youngjae knelt to turn the machine on, and noticed Himchan standing in the doorway.

 

“Where do you live?” He asked.

 

“Yongsan, not far from the river.” Jongup replied.

 

“Your place is on my way towards Dongdaemun. I'll pick you up, we'll head in together.” Himchan nodded and pushed himself up to stand straighter. Jongup nodded his head.

 

“Sure.” He pushed past the elder man to head back towards his desk where he grabbed a scrap of paper and pen and scrawled down his home address and phone number. Himchan took it with a nod and tucked it into the back pocket of his jeans.

 

“I'll see you tomorrow morning.” He said and turned to grab his jacket from the rack not far from the desks under the cover of hanging vines, then made for the elevator.

 

Behind Jongup, Yongguk was speaking to Junhong in hushed tones, while Daehyun tidied up his desk by neatening up stacks of paper and arranging folders of documents they needed for the following day.

 

“Where does Himchan live?” Jongup asked, and the Busan boy looked up.

 

He lifted a finger and pushed his black framed glasses further up onto the bridge of his nose, “Gangnam. He has an apartment on top of the hill. Why?”

 

“No reason.” Jongup said as he grabbed his own coat from where it hung on the back of his chair. He turned his head and glanced up to where the elevator doors were sliding closed with Himchan hidden behind them, and Jongup knew his home definitely wasn't on Himchan's way.

 

*

 

When Jongup woke up, Goyangie was staring at him and mewling for food. He smiled as she came closer and kneaded her paws into the blankets he pulled tighter over his naked chest, and when he held up his hand to push her gently away, she nuzzled affectionately into his palm. They ate breakfast together, her from a bowl, him off a plate, and when he showered she sat patiently by the open door watching the steam as it rolled over her head like advancing storm clouds.

 

As Jongup dressed, she found a sliver of sunlight warming the carpeted floor and her tail swished back and forth while he pulled on his jeans and woollen socks, and his favourite evergreen sweater. She didn't move when he pulled on his overcoat and grabbed his things, nor when he pulled the door open and headed down to the street to meet Himchan.

 

It was the first clear day in what felt like weeks, but the loss of cloud cover and blowing wind filled the air with ice, and Jongup hunched up his shoulders in an attempt to withstand the cold. His breath blew out in a cloud before him and he watched Himchan's black sedan pull up out front, and thankfully he climbed in. The heating blasted on his face and he sighed in relief while strapping his seatbelt across his lap.

 

“Morning.” Himchan said with a sidelong glance towards him. He was wearing a fitted black knit with a high neck, and something about that and his perfectly styled hair made Jongup think he looked kind of like a spy from an over the top thriller.

 

“Morning.” He mirrored the greeting and Himchan pulled out onto the road.

 

To Jongup, Seoul looked different in the sunshine. The surface of the water glittered as they shot past it, and the people that walked along the paths built by the road, though weighed down with heavy winter clothing, smiled and laughed in ways Jongup could swear he hadn't seen since summer ended. Clusters of snow were still piled up in the shade of swaying trees, but exposed grass and pavement had been dried under the warmth of the beating rays as though the miserable grey of the day before hadn't happened at all.

 

“Do you mind if I smoke?” Himchan asked as they slowed to a stop in front of a red light and he turned to reach back through the pockets of his heavy grey overcoat that was spread out across the backseat. He emerged with a fag pressed between his lips, and a lighter in hand.

 

“Go ahead.” Jongup replied. Himchan cracked down the window a fraction and cupped his left hand over his right to protect the flame as he sucked in.

 

The light flicked to green and Himchan pressed forward while holding the smoking end of his cigarette by the window's opening and followed the road as it veered away from the twisting river and up towards the north east of the city. They rounded the bustling streets of Itaewon, alive with life even so early in the morning, and headed east under the shadow of Namsan mountain to bypass Myeongdong, where the traffic would grow heavier. Jongup watched through the passenger window as a group of neatly uniformed school children ran side by side along the foot path to avoid missing their school's early bell, while a cluster of young men strode in the opposite direction, their heads thrown back in laughter as they stumbled home from an extra late night. Seoul was different to the country town Jongup used to call home, but it hadn't taken long for it to find its way into his heart.

 

“I didn't offer you one.” Himchan said and jongup turned to look at him, his eyebrow arched in question until Himchan elaborated, “A cigarette.”

 

“I don't smoke, but thanks.” They crossed over the Chonggyecheon stream, and Dongdaemun design plaza was looming on the horizon like a spaceship that dwarfed all those around it into looking like ants.

 

“Yeah well, if Yongguk asks, neither do I.” Himchan said, his words puffing out with a breath of smoke.

 

“He hates cigarettes?” Jongup queried and Himchan chuckled.

 

“Mm, has this absurd notion that they're _bad_ for you.” He flicked his thumb against the filter, sending ash out the window, “It's a bad habit I picked up in the military, but Bbang is infuriatingly immune to peer pressure.”

 

“What about Junhong?” Jongup asked, “Not common to see a doctor smoking.”

 

“He doesn't smoke often. Just when he's angry, or upset.”” Himchan replied and turned the car from the main road and down a back street.

 

They passed a young woman standing in the alleyway, a chocolate brown apron pulled on over the top of her white bakery uniform. She was taking out bags of rubbish, and long strands of dark hair were falling into her eyes but she paused to watch as Himchan and Jongup drove past. When their eyes met, Jongup smiled, but she didn't smile back. By the time he turned to face forward again, she'd gone, and Himchan guided the car back onto a main road.

 

“You said you're a lawyer.” He changed the subject and flicked his cigarette butt out the window, then rolled it closed, “What university did you go to?”

 

“Seoul National.” Jongup replied. When Himchan's hands returned to the steering wheel, Jongup noticed the scabs indented across his knuckles littered between a wash of red and swollen skin.

 

“Seoul National?” Himchan repeated, surprise evident in his voice, “That's a good Uni. I heard the law school is practically impossible to get into.”

 

“I didn't sleep with anyone to get in there either, if that's what you're wondering.” Jongup's voice was steady.

 

Himchan winced and glanced over towards him with furrowed brows, “That isn't what I meant.”

 

“You passed it.” Jongup replied and shifted in his seat to gesture behind them, “The branch was back there.”

 

There was an open space on the side of the road up ahead, and Himchan parked easily parallel to the curb then turned with his hands still on the steering wheel to look at Jongup, “That isn't what I meant.” He repeated.

 

“Alright.” Jongup unclipped his seatbelt and rested his hand on the door handle and watched the oncoming traffic approach through the wing mirror.

 

“Jongup-” Himchan was getting annoyed again.

 

“It's fine, Himchan. Apology accepted, let's go.” The traffic stopped at a red light a hundred metres behind them, and Jongup took the opportunity to step out of the car and make for the pavement. There weren't many people around, it was mostly offices in that part of Dongdaemun, and foot flow was low, even during the day.

 

Himchan slammed his car door when he climbed out and pulled his overcoat on over his spy-sweater, then tucked his hands safely into the pockets. Jongup fell into step with him and they walked in silence up towards the dull grey building that housed the branch. It looked drab, even under the blue sky and Jongup thought the most striking thing about the building was how absolutely un-striking it was.

 

White automatic doors decorated with the company's bland blue insignia slid open and their faces were washed with warm air from the whirring air conditioning. The main room was empty, with a faintly patterned grey carpet that met white walls, and opposite the door was the neat row of four teller booths. Large perspex screens were built to connect the white desk to the white roof, and only two of the chairs were taken up by neatly uniformed young women.

 

One looked up from where she had been engrossed in her computer screen and smiled at them. For a moment, she just sat there in silence, smiling blankly at them in a way that looked almost as though she'd never actually _seen_ anyone smile before, she'd just had the expression described vaguely to her and she hoped desperately she was doing it right. Once they approached, she seemed to snap out of it and straightened up in her seat, “Good morning! Welcome to the Industrial Bank of Korea, my name is Hwang Minji, how may I help you?” They definitely didn't get people in there often.

 

Himchan slipped his hand into the inside pocket of his coat and pulled out his identification wallet, flipped it open and held it out for her to see through the perspex window, “My name is DCI Kim Himchan, this is my colleague DS Moon Jongup.” He gestured with his head behind him just as Jongup was withdrawing his own wallet and flipping it open for her to see, “We were wondering if we could speak to a manager or senior member of staff.”

 

Hwang Minji blinked in surprise and leant forward until her head was almost touching the screen as she read over the ID card. It didn't say much, just had a photo of their faces, identification numbers. Himchan's stated he was the superior officer, Detective Chief Inspector, while Jongup was just Detective Sergeant, and both cards stated them to be working for the NPA – the National Police Agency. None of it was exactly the truth, but it was as close to it as they could get.

 

“Has something happened?” She asked, while the other teller leant forward to try and get a look.

 

Himchan flashed them both a reassuring smile, “We just want to speak to your manager about an ex-staff member is all. Are they available?”

 

While Minji's eyes moved between Himchan, Jongup and their ID cards, the second teller pushed herself up to stand, “I'll get her.” She said, and promptly disappeared through a white door into the office space beyond.

 

“Which ex-staff member?” Minji asked, and Himchan turned back to look at her.

 

“Song Ahra. Do you know her?” He asked.

 

Slowly, Minji nodded and her brows furrowed, “Yeah. She finished up a few weeks after I started. Is she in trouble?”

 

“You could say that.” Himchan clearly didn't want to give too much information away, at least not until he'd spoken to whoever was in charge, so when the white door behind the teller desks opened again and a third woman walked through, he turned his focus on to her.

 

“Hello, I'm the manager here, my name is Oh Hyebin. Is there something wrong, officers?” She asked. She was older than the other two, but not by a lot, maybe around the same age that Song Ahra had been, when she met her demise. Like the others, she wore a pristine company uniform, with her hair tied so tightly at the back of her head it seemed to pull her whole face taught.

 

Again, Himchan and Jongup flashed their ID cards, “Is there somewhere we can talk?” Himchan asked.

 

“Of course, of course. Follow me.”

 

The door into the branch's stomach buzzed open, and Jongup ws quick to follow Himchan through it and into the rooms beyond. Clearly, this building had been designed with the intention to house many more staff than it actually did, with offices and conference rooms left vacant, other than plain grey tables and chairs arranged seemingly unused around them. They passed by a small kitchenette, and another room attached that looked as though it was used for breaks until finally Oh Hyebin lead them into a meeting room only big enough for a round table, with four chairs around it. She flicked the lights on as she entered and twisted her hands together as she glanced between them.

 

“Is there anything I can get for you gentlemen? We don't have much but there is tea, and coffee...” She let the offer hang, but both men shook their heads and lowered down to take a seat each facing the manager.

 

“No, thank you.” Himchan said aloud, “As we were saying to your staff members, ma'am, my name is DCI Kim Himchan, and this is my colleague DS Moon Jongup, and we had a couple of questions regarding a Song Ahra. We believe she used to work here?”

 

Jongup folded his hands on top of the table and simply watched as Oh Hyebin took a seat of her own opposite Himchan. Her brows were lifting towards her hairline as she glanced between them, “Ahra? Of course, she was here for three years, while she worked on her degree. Why? Has something happened? Is she okay?”

 

There was only one window built in the room, built high up on the plain white wall. It was too high to see the surrounding buildings, so when Jongup glanced up towards it, all he could see was the faintest wisp of white clouds and black birds flying across the open expanse of the blue sky.

 

Himchan didn't bat an eyelid as he faced Hyebin and said, “I'm sorry, but her body was found in the mountains south of Gimpo two nights ago. She was murdered.”

 

“Murdered?” Hyebin lifted a hand to cover her mouth as she stared with horrified eyes at Himchan, “She was- _how?_ Oh my god. I can't believe this.”

 

“I'm so sorry, but because this is an on going investigation I can't pass on any details of her death to you at this point. I know this must be so hard for you to hear, but is it alright if I can ask you a couple of questions about her, and her time here?” Himchan's voice was soft, and his brows were furrowed empathetically as he looked unwaveringly towards Hyebin. She nodded her head, and so he continued, “Did you know Ms Song well?”

 

“Yeah, or well... I feel as though I did. We started around the same time, we worked together for years while she studied. We used to be the main tellers here.” Hyebin's fingers were twisting together, and though no tears had fallen, her eyes were wide and wet, “We didn't spend any time together outside of work, but we always got along well. It's never been very busy in here, there was always a lot of time to talk.”

 

“I know it has been a while since she stopped working here, but can you think of anyone who might have wanted to hurt her? Maybe she mentioned an ex-boyfriend, or someone she was afraid of.” Himchan suggested while his palms pressed flat down onto the table.

 

“Someone who wanted to _hurt_ Ahra-Unnie?” Hyebin looked troubled at the thought, “She was always lovely to me, we always spent lots of time laughing, but as I said, I didn't know her very well. From what I know when she wasn't working she spent all her time studying.”

 

“Why was it that she left the branch? Did she finish her degree?” Jongup took his turn to ask a question. Their records had her listed as studying medicine at Seoul National university, the same one Jongup himself had attended, and as Himchan had stated earlier in the day she'd have had to be pretty smart to get into that course.

 

However, Hyebin shook her head no, “She didn't finish. She dropped out a couple of years in.”

 

“Do you know why?” Himchan urged.

 

“No... She always loved it. I was surprised when she told me she'd dropped out, but she said that her boyfriend had gotten some important job back home in Busan, so they were moving back. Our manager offered to get her a transfer, and she wasn't interested. I always thought she was involved in whatever work her boyfriend did, but when I asked her any questions she always avoided answering them.” Hyebin's fingers had twined together so tightly that knuckles had turned white, but it was hard to tell if it was from nerves, or the news she had just received. Himchan knew Youngjae would have been able to tell.

 

“So she moved to Busan, dropped out of university and quit her job, but wouldn't tell you why. What can you tell us about her boyfriend?” Jongup shifted forward in his seat again.

 

“I never met him. They met when they were both living in Seoul. I know he worked for some guy who had... Bars or restaurants or something in Busan and was some kind of scout for property here. He was a little older than her.” Hyebin's eyes moved between Himchan and Jongup and they gradually grew wider as she spoke, “Why? You don't think he had anything to do with this, do you?”

 

“We just want to make sure we follow every avenue, is all.” Himchan reassured with a smile, “I think you've helped us enough for today, though, Ms Oh. Thank you so much for your cooperation, but is it alright if we can take some of your contact details, in case we have any further questions?”

 

“Of course, of course. I'll get you one of my business cards.” Hyebin said, looking around. She rose from her seat and made for the door in search for the slip of paper, leaving Himchan and Jongup alone in the white and grey room.

 

“There wasn't any mention in her records of a partner.” Jongup said lowly with his eyes on the door, and Himchan's lips pressed into a thin line.

 

“A partner who never reported her as missing.” He replied and glanced down to the watch on his wrist. Half passed eight. In the pocket of his coat, Himchan's phone buzzed and he dug his hand deep down into the folds of cloth to extract it.

 

Jongup spared him a sidelong glance, “It's Daehyun.” He said, while tapping a reply, “He just got into work, and says the search of her apartment is just about to start in Busan.”

 

“Is everyone there?” Jongup asked, Himchan shook his head no.

 

“He says he's the first. Yongguk needs to call Sun and make sure her team focuses on finding the identity of this boyfriend.” Footsteps were approaching again from down the hall and both rose from their seat, “His apartment is on the way back to HQ.”

 

“Let's go.” Jongup replied.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends and loved ones! I didn't have a particularly great week this past week, so I apologise for the late chapter, but you know what they say better late than never. As always, I'm eternally grateful for anyone who reads and I hope you enjoy, and I hope this was interesting! x


	7. Chapter 7

They retraced the roads the way they'd come. Through Dongdaemun's narrow streets to the design plaza, then around the base of Namsan mountain again and towards the river. Instead of diverting west, though, towards Jongup's building, they went east to a row of high rise apartment buildings built on the northern edge of the water overlooking Gangnam, and the city's south. The streets were getting busier, and the footpaths bustled with people walking on their way to work and to school, while the roads were congested with busses and taxis. It didn't take long for Himchan to be turning into an underground parking lot and slotting into a visitor's space beside the elevator. The building its self looked like a tall pillar of glass rising from the earth, reflecting the endless expanse of blue sky, and the faintest hint of clouds rolling in from Incheon, and beyond that, the sea.

 

Jongup tucked his hands into the pockets of his over coat again. Even in the carpark, the air was cold and he rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet while waiting for the elevator doors to roll open, at which time both he and Himchan stepped in. Yongguk's apartment was on the sixteenth level, and when finally they made it to his front door, Himchan unapologetically punched in the entry code without knocking.

 

“Bbang?” He called as he stepped over the threshold, but held the door open long enough for Jongup to follow them in. Both Himchan and Jongup toed off their shoes in the small tiled vestibule, then stepped into the expanse of Yongguk's living room. The apartment wasn't huge, but it was beautiful, with wide open spaces and brown leather furniture. A pair of matching couches sat snugly on a black and white rug facing a television set, while the whole wall opposite where they stood was made of glass panel windows. They were high enough to see far beyond the limits of Seoul to a row of roughly shaped mountains, and the low grey sprawl of a city, Seongnam, maybe, or Suwon. Leading on from the living room was a dining table, and then built against the far right wall, a white marble kitchen and in it was two identical men.

 

They were standing facing one another, each with a steaming white mug held tightly in their right hand, while their left was folded across each of their chests like mirrors of each another, in more ways than one. The man leaning against the counter was dressed comfortably in jeans and a black sweater, but it took Jongup a moment to realise Yongguk was shirtless. Green leaves and red blossoms were etched under his skin, wrapping around both of his arms from cuff to shoulder and along the expanse of his back from the top of his spine, to dip below the hem of his sweatpants. Stylised twists of billowing smoke curved around his elbows, and when he turned to face them, the red eyes of a dragon stared Jongup down from where it lay in a bed of flowers growing from his chest and stomach.

 

“Himchan? What are you doing here?” Yongguk said with furrowed brows and pushed himself up to stand straighter, while his clothed mirror watched in silence from over his twin's shoulder. Something was troubled in Yongguk's eyes, but he said nothing as he watched Himchan lead Jongup closer towards the kitchen.

 

“Sorry for disturbing you, I didn't think you'd have company. Just a couple things came up, I wanted to talk to you before work.” Himchan smiled and touched a hand to Yongguk's bare shoulder, then turned to greet the fourth man, “Long time no see, it's good to see you.”

 

“You too.” The man said with a smile.

 

Jongup stopped at the edge of the counter. He hadn't taken his coat off, and he could feel the cool hint of sweat beading at the base of his spine.

 

Yongguk set down his mug on the counter and gestured with his left hand to his brother “Jongup, this is Yongnam.”

 

“Pleased to meet you.” Yongnam said, raising his mug in Jongup's direction, like he was giving a toast.

 

“Likewise.” Jongup replied.

 

“You said you needed to speak to me?” Yongguk turned to Himchan, who smiled and nodded his head.

 

“Yeah, it's about boring work stuff, though.” He chuckled and crossed the kitchen to help himself to a white mug from the cupboard, and poured himself his own cup of coffee.

 

“That's alright, Yongnam was just leaving.” Yongguk said without sparing his twin a glance, and the man nodded his head and pushed up off the counter. He set his cup in the sink and clapped Himchan on the back.

 

“I should be heading to work, anyway. We should grab a beer sometime, Himchan, have a catch up.” He said to Himchan, then turned to leave the kitchen, “Nice to meet you, Jongup-ssi.”

 

Jongup dipped his head, “Nice to meet you, too.” He watched Yongnam head back towards the door they'd just come through and slung his coat over his arm.

 

It wasn't until the door fall closed behind him, that Yongguk turned to look at Himchan expectantly, “You've been to the bank?”

 

Himchan took a sip of his coffee and nodded, “We're lucky they open early. The Manager there worked with our victim for years before she quit out of nowhere last year. She said she dropped out of university and moved to Busan.”

 

“So?” Yongguk asked, “Dropping out of medicine isn't uncommon, and it makes sense for her to go back to her home town.”

 

“She said she was moving back for her boyfriend's job, but wouldn't say what that was.” Himchan said and Yongguk frowned.

 

“Boyfriend? She hasn't been reported missing yet, right?” The director frowned and set his mug on the counter, “It's already been three days since she died, surely he'd have to be a little concerned that he hasn't heard from her.”

 

“They could have broken up.” Jongup pointed out, but Himchan shook his head.

 

“Whether they have or not, she moved back to Busan because of him and didn't want to tell anyone why. That has to mean something, surely.” He argued, “I wanted to ask you to call Director Sun, get her team to focus on finding an identity for that boyfriend.”

 

“When they find it, you two are going to need to speak to him.” Yongguk turned his head and glanced to where Jongup still stood with his coat wrapped tightly around his body.

 

“Does that mean we're going to Busan?”

 

“It means you're going to Busan.”

 

“You're kidding.” Himchan deadpanned. His fingers were wrapped around the white porcelain of his cup, while a slow drip of coffee slid down its side towards his thumb from where his lips had been pressed a moment before.

 

Yongguk sighed and set his own mug down on the counter, and didn't respond to Himchan's comment. Instead he turned towards a doorway leading away from the kitchen and living room, while his lips twisted in frustration. Himchan followed.

 

“Bbang, are you serious?” He rounded the kitchen island Yongguk had been leaning against minutes before and followed him through the open door, into the small study he worked in from home. It wasn't nearly as big as his office at the Unit, but his desk was just as much a mess of printed documents and stationary, and the wide windows gave the light they all yearned for when they were deep under the ground. Stacks of paper with the word _classified_ stamped in red across their covers surrounded the closed lid of his laptop, and Yongguk began to shuffle through them one by one in search of something.

 

“Of course I'm serious.” He scoffed, and sent Himchan a look.

 

“Daehyun is _from Busan!”_ Himchan groaned.

 

“Daehyun is off the case. If anyone outside of the Unit found out I was letting him help would have my head for it, and you _know_ that. I am not sending him to Busan to destroy everything our team is doing on this case, and risk our entire operation.” Yongguk pushed the papers aside and pulled his laptop closer towards him. It looked almost comical, this number of apparently classified documents, but Himchan knew their leader was smart, there wouldn't be anything here that was truly sensitive, or at least not redacted beyond being comprehensible.

 

“ _Destroy everything?”_ Himchan's lips pursed and he folded his arms across his chest.

 

Yongguk sighed and pressed his hand to his forehead. “You know what I meant. Daehyun is good at what he does, he's smart, but there is a line between loyalty and brattiness. A woman is dead, Himchan, and her family deserve to know what happened to her. I will not have your childishness jeopardise this investigation. You of all people should know better than that.” The air between them was heavy and tense and Himchan couldn't find it in himself to reply so Yongguk just turned away, until his back was to his old friend.

 

He opened the lid of his laptop and tapped in his password. The screen lit up onto a document, profiles of the Unit's members. Over Yongguk's shoulder, Himchan could see their photos each arranged in age order with their names, birthdays, blood types and Security Clearance Levels. Daehyun and Youngjae had the lowest clearance, a measly 6, and Himchan always teased them for it. _“Need to know.”_ He'd say, when they asked him what he and Yongguk chatted about over coffee in the mornings. Of course, Himchan couldn't talk, he and Junhong were only just above them on a 7, while Yongguk took the highest with 8. Shinyoung was a 7, too, but Himchan suspected she knew more than she let off, they'd never quite been sure where exactly in the government it was she'd come from, after all. Second to last on the open white page was a photo of Jongup Himchan had seen a handful of times before on the Police ID card he showed to Uniform at the crime scene, and to the banker that morning.

 

Name: _Moon Jongup_

Date Of Birth: _19950206_

Blood Type: _B_

Security Clearance Level: _9_

 

*

 

Himchan drove with Jongup back to the Unit's headquarters in silence. Neither one pretended that Jongup hadn't heard Himchan's argument with their director, but nor did they think to waste time by discussing it. Jongup knew Himchan didn't like him, through no fault of his own, and Himchan knew Jongup was smart enough not to attempt a friendship neither of them particularly wanted.

 

What bothered Himchan, though, was the knowledge that Yongguk was angry with him. Their friendship was well seasoned, and weather-worn. Himchan'd had Yongguk's back up in the mountain passes of their military service, when both their bodies and minds were tested beyond their limits time and again while old men dressed up like toy soldiers watched them, only to insist they be pushed further. Yongguk had Himchan's back, too, on the days it mattered the most. Like the time he held the barrel of his gun to the temple of a weeping new recruit, and the day they were finally discharged, when the men in blue came to tell him his sister had been murdered.

 

The car pulled up out the front of the Unit, and Jongup turned to glance towards Himchan. Underneath them, the engine rumbled with a slow hum, but Himchan's eyes stayed forward and focused hazily on something in the middle-distance.

 

“You coming in?” Jongup finally asked, and Himchan blinked. He seemed startled, like he hadn't noticed the car had stopped even though he had stopped it.

 

“No.” He replied, “I'm going home. There's a couple things I need to do.”

 

Jongup nodded his head, he needed to figure things out for their trip to Busan, but first at least one of them needed to tell the others what had happened. With a flick of his wrist, Jongup opened the door and slid out of his seat, and Himchan barely waited for him to close it before he was taking off down the road again, sending the murky water that filled the streets potholes splashing behind him as he rounded the corner and disappeared from sight.

 

A uniformed officer greeted Jongup with a smile as he entered the building and removed his coat to be inspected while he passed through the metal detectors stationed at the front entrance.

 

“You have a good day now, DS Moon.” The officer nodded to him, and he smiled.

 

“You too.” He replied and headed for the elevator that carried him down and below ground into the Unit's headquarters, where Daehyun, Youngjae and Junhong all stood in front of the array of television screens, watching them in silence. None of them turned towards Jongup as he strode across the overhanging mezzanine and descended the steps with his coat folded neatly over his arm.

 

“What are we watching?” He asked, and Youngjae startled. He hadn't heard the resounding clang of the elevator doors opening.

 

He was leaning back against Himchan's desk, while Junhong sat backwards on one of the many wheely chairs with his elbows both resting on the chair's back, and his legs spread wide to fit it between them. Daehyun was a little way off and had folded his arms over his chest as he focused on the screens, serious and contemplative, but with eyes full of sadness.

 

“It's a feed from Busan.” Youngjae provided and shifted over to make room for Jongup beside him, “Some of director Sun's team are... Speaking to the victim's parents.”

 

Jongup dropped his coat over the back of his own chair and rounded the desks to where the others stood. The video they were watching seemed like it was filmed from a security camera mounted high enough on the wall so that it skewed with the perspective. It was a small room, though obviously one for interview rather than interrogation, and two women dressed in pristine pantsuits sat facing an older couple. The man's arms were folded across his chest too tightly for it to be comfortable, while the woman beside him twisted her fingers together anxiously as her head turned to look between the agents. There wasn't any sound, either that or they had switched it off, but it was obvious the agents were trying to ask questions as gently as they could, while the couple shook their heads, or nodded their responses.

 

“Shouldn't that be us? Shouldn't we be speaking to them?” Jongup asked. His insides felt all hot with hurt and anger, these people had lost their child, and it was them, the Unit, who had been charged with finding who was responsible. Surely, they owed them that.

 

Youngjae shook his head, “It's best they don't know who we are. The fewer people we need to meet, the better.”

 

“Where is Himchan?” Daehyun asked, seeming to have just noticed his absence.

 

“He had somewhere to go.” Jongup provided, and the Busan man sighed.

 

“Probably for the best. He finds these kinds of things hard.” He rubbed his palm against the back of his neck, “Did you learn anything?”

 

Jongup filled them in on their visit to the bank, and what they had learned about the victim's move back to Busan and dropping out of university, and the boyfriend who was yet to report her as missing.

 

“Strange.” Junhong frowned. He'd spun his chair half way around towards Jongup, and had lowered both arms to rest his forearms along the back of the seat, then leant his chin against them. He looked so boyishly curious as he peered up at his Hyungs, all wide brown eyes with the faintest hint of his dimples indenting his cheeks.

 

“It could just be that he hasn't thought to yet.” Youngjae pointed out, but Daehyun shook his head.

 

“She died three days ago. Surely you'd be worried if you hadn't heard from your partner for three days.” He said, and Youngjae nodded in acceptance of his point.

 

“The apartment Director Sun's team are searching this morning is just hers, from what we know. Maybe they're not that serious.” Junhong added, “I know her forensics team, they'll be giving me everything they find down there.”

 

“Himchan and I stopped by Director Bang's place this morning and he says he's going to pass on the message for them to try and look for anything that could pin point who this boyfriend is.” Jongup said, but it still didn't sit right to him that her boyfriend hadn't _said something,_ “They were serious enough, though, for her to follow him back to Busan.”

 

“Wait, you went to Yongguk's place?” Youngjae arched an eyebrow in surprise.

 

Jongup nodded, “Himchan drove us there.”

 

“What the fuck I've been on this team for _years_ how come I've never been to Yongguk's place? What was it like?” Daehyun asked, “I bet it's really big, and super, like... _Clean._ ”

 

“It's pretty big, but I wouldn't say it's _clean._ Tidy, is probably a better word.” Junhong chimed in, then rose up from the chair he'd been curled up on. For a moment, Jongup was amazed by the fact that he just kinda _kept going._ He'd never seen someone so big capable of making themselves look so small.

 

“You said the forensics team is sending you what they find?” Jongup asked, steering their conversation back on track, and preventing Daehyun from saying anything in response.

 

The doctor nodded, and stretched his arms above his head, “Yeah, I should hear more about what's on its way by this afternoon. Some tests I ran yesterday should be finishing up in about an hour, though. I'll let you know anything that comes up.”

 

“I hope they show up _something_ useful.” Jongup nodded and rounded his desk to drop back into his seat. He flipped open his laptop, it was still on from the night before and as the screen woke up he was faced with tab after tab of local newspaper articles from across the country, still convinced that each one was even less useful than the last. As he closed the pages he looked over the dull headlines, from record snow fall in the mountains, to speculation of a wet summer, and a disappointing tourist season. If the Spring was too wet, the Autumn harvests wouldn't yield much, and Jongup was grateful they lived in a time when that wouldn't affect the lives of too many people, as it once would.

 

“Wait, what was that?” Junhong asked and leant over Jongup's shoulder. He'd been tucking his chair back under the desk when he spied the picture out of the corner of his eye. With a flick of his wrist, and a keyboard shortcut, the article loaded back up onto the page, and Jongup read across the headline, ' _Spring Festival Cancelled'_ it said in black, bold letters. Below the title was a photo of an elderly couple, each dressed impeccably well as they stood in front of a stone wall with small bouquets of purple flowers held in hand. The stems were long and slender, and from each side a delicate blossom curved forward like a single butterfly wing ripped from a slender thorax.

 

“ _Festival chair people Kim Yeohwan and Ahn Soojin each hold arrangements of Korean Monkshood at the 2017 festival.”_ Youngjae read aloud from where he too peered over Jongup's shoulder.

 

“That's it, that's the flower!” Junhong said, “That's what I found in her mouth.”

 

“Are you sure?” Jongup asked. To his eyes, the flower was hardly recognisable as organic life anymore, but Junhong's palpable excitement was enough to ensure that he was probably right.

 

“I'm certain.”

 

Junhong glanced up at the television screen in front of them again, as the others flurried into movement around him. The two agents in their suits hadn't moved an inch, but the man they faced had sunk down in his chair and trembled with tears, while the woman beside him crumpled under the weight of her grief. This was a break, even if just a small one, and if the flower truly did mean something, it wouldn't be long before they knew just what. They were going to find this guy, he knew it.

 

*

 

In the Unit's headquarters, it was impossible to know how much time had passed. There were no windows, no sunlight to remind them of the world above ground, and only the rumble of their stomachs to signal the coming of afternoon. By the time the elevator doors signalled Yongguk's arrival, Junhong had already retreated back to his labs even further below ground, and the other three agents' stony expressions were focused on their screens as they scoured encyclopaedias and police records for some mention of the blossom that sat curled up and decaying in the jar between them. The director didn't stop to greet them, he instead strode across the wide room and disappeared into the seclusion of his office, with Agent Jin following not far behind.

 

It was nearing midday when Himchan finally came, and Daehyun greeted him with a smile and a loud announcement of: “We found something.”

 

Himchan's hand was curved around a paper coffee cup, but where that morning he'd been collected and unflappable, now his hair was unruly, and his eyes tired as though the preceding hours had drained him of all energy. A tired smile pulled at his lips and he nodded, “Good.” He came closer to read over his friend's shoulder, “Korean Monkshood?”

 

“It's the same as Wolf's Bane, it's a poisonous flower native to all around these parts.” Daehyun explained, “We're trying to find any mention of it in cases before.”

 

“It bears all resemblance to a signature.” Himchan agreed and Daehyun nodded.

 

“Exactly.”

 

“Try looking at other murders of women, maybe around Busan, if that's where she's from.” The elder man instructed, and Daehyun nodded with a twitch of a smile.

 

“On it.”

 

Jongup kept his head bowed over his computer silently. He'd fitted the tip of his thumb nail between his teeth and tugged at it non too gently, until he felt the prickle of Himchan's gaze settling on him from over the desk.

 

“Where's Bbang?” The agent asked after a moment, turning back to Daehyun.

 

“In his office. We're still waiting for the transcripts of the interview Director Sun's lot did of the victim's parents this morning.”

 

“Still?” Himchan frowned. He straightened up and slipped his arms free of his coat so that he could dump it over the back of his seat, “You come get me if you find anything, yeah?”

 

“You got it, Sir.” Daehyun saluted comically as Himchan pulled away and headed straight past Shinyoung's desk and into Yongguk's office. Though not without a perfectly aimed swat to the back of Daehyun's head.

 

He didn't knock. It'd been years since he'd bothered, and having said that, it had only been three since Yongguk had become director. Yongguk was sitting behind his wide desk with his forehead resting in his hand while dark eyes flicked across the screen before him as Himchan stepped over the threshold;

 

“Close the door behind you.” He instructed without looking up, and Himchan did so by nudging it with the heel his foot so that it fell shut with a resounding thud.

 

“I don't want to argue with you.” He said, and Yongguk's lips twitched into a weak smile.

 

“That's usually what you say before you argue with me.”

 

“I'm serious, Bbang.” Himchan sighed, “I don't want to fight.”

 

“I know you don't.” Yongguk finally straightened up, looked at him head on. Himchan didn't know how he was able to sit in there, day after day with nothing but white plaster walls surrounding him. It was so monotonous, other than the books that lined shelves along the back wall, and the illustrations across his desk Junhong had gifted him not long after he'd joined the team. Himchan still wasn't sure how the doctor had found out it was their director's birthday, but the look on Yongguk's face, so absolutely mesmerised by the drawing, was all that mattered in the end and Himchan thought that was probably the precise moment his oldest friend started to fall in love.

 

“Jun's smoking again.” He said, stepping forward and turning the framed drawing around to give it another look. From between the floating ribs, just below the cage, a slender sprig of Wolf's Bane was tucked between the bulging shape of chrysanthemums, arching up towards the sternum. He wondered how their leader hadn't recognised it straight away, after all the hours he spent staring at it.

 

“So are you.” Yongguk leant back in his chair, “But it's none of my business what either of you do in your private time.”

 

“You told me you'd never have a relationship with a smoker.” Himchan quirked an eyebrow and turned the frame back around.

 

“Junhong and I aren't-” Yongguk started, but Himchan cut him off.

 

“You're no more convinced by that than anyone, Bbang, and you know it. Insisting is only going to end up hurting the both of you in the long run.” He reasoned.

 

“What did you come in here for, Himchan?” Yongguk sighed.

 

Himchan debated asking about Jongup's security clearance, who he was, where he'd come from. It was clear he'd been hand picked by the commissioner herself to join their team, and he wanted to understand _why._ He didn't ask about it, though, he knew better than to think Yongguk would be honest with him. Himchan had never known anyone so skilled at keeping a secret.

 

“Do you remember when I found out that my sister was dead?” He asked.

 

Yongguk straightened up in his seat, and nodded his head. Of course he remembered. It had been snowing, the first snow of the season, and both he and Himchan had been dressed warmly in their fresh pressed dress uniforms, all button down camo, with a beret tilted on their heads. They'd made it down from the mountain in the middle of the night, after the success of their final mission, and as they faced their tidied reflections, Yongguk had seen Himchan smile for the first time in weeks. Their looming discharge felt strangely alien, like it was the last day of school again and they were leaving the only world they knew to be thrust into an open expanse of endless opportunity, but Yongguk knew neither of them would feel nostalgia. Not after everything they'd been put through.

 

“ _What's the first thing you're going to do?”_ Himchan asked. He straightened his bunk for the last time, getting it ready for whoever would occupy it next.

 

“ _Visit my family, probably.”_ Yongguk said. Their bags were leaning against the wall, waiting to be loaded up onto the trucks that would carry them home, _“My brother was discharged a couple weeks ago. It'll be nice for my parents to have all of us home together again.”_

 

“ _I'm going to get drunk.”_ Himchan had laughed. His smile took up his entire face, but Yongguk could see where it was worn down at the edges, not as bright as it had been when they'd first met, _“I want to have a huge get together, with all my friends. A big welcome home party.”_

 

Yongguk had heard him the night before, the way he called out in his sleep. They both had the nightmares, but the guilt made Himchan's worse, and it was becoming common for him to toss and turn and whimper through the night, only to wake up grey skinned and exhausted the next morning. He hoped freedom would give Himchan time to feel whole again.

 

“ _It's really over.”_ Yongguk smiled, and Himchan grinned back at him.

 

“ _Finally.”_ He said.

 

The men in blue met them out the front of their building, and asked to speak with Himchan alone. He was confused, but Yongguk was his partner through everything, and he told them there was nothing they could have to say to him that his best friend couldn't hear. Yongguk was glad he'd been there to catch Himchan when his legs gave out from under him, and to hold him back as he shouted and screamed and denied their news. He was glad still when the strangers left, and Himchan couldn't breathe from the tears and the grief that had its hand wrapped tight around his windpipe, and Yongguk rubbed slow circles on his spine as he bent in half and vomited on the freshly fallen snow.

 

“You know I remember.” Yongguk said and looked up at Himchan, “I couldn't forget that.”

 

“When I joined the Unit, I swore I wouldn't fail a family, like those police failed mine.” Himchan replied, “I'm going to find who did this, regardless of who is at my side. I'd never let anything get in the way of an investigation.”

 

Yongguk's lips twitched into a smile thin and tilted like a waxing moon. There was no doubt that he trusted Himchan more than anyone. In fact, he'd trusted Himchan before he'd even liked him, back in the early days of their enlistment, when summer just began and the Gangnam boy smiled so big Yongguk doubted he even had enough room on his face for it.

 

“You'll need this, then.” Yongguk took hold of a stapled document and tossed it across his desk, towards where Himchan stood.

 

“What is it?” He asked, even as he picked it up and skimmed over the page.

 

“A transcript of the interview Sun's people did. The victim's parents identified her boyfriend.” Yongguk leant back in his chair again and pressed the tips of his fingers together as he watched Himchan glancing over the document.

 

“I thought this hadn't come through yet. Who is he?” The sound of rustling pages seemed to echo in the small, empty room.

 

Yongguk watched Himchan flick through the document with his brows furrowed down over his eyes, “They talk about him on page twelve.” He finally said, “His name is Lee Taejin.”

 

Himchan flipped through to the page and folded it over to read the exchange. Her parents didn't say much, just a name and a few details about him, but it didn't explain the grave expression on Yongguk's face.

 

“And?” Himchan prompted.

 

Yongguk took in a deep breath, then grabbed a second document. This one was tucked into a manila folder, with a familiar red stamp pressed across the front cover, and he held it out for Himchan to take without a second look, “He runs a nightclub in Busan, on the waterfront somewhere. Sun says it's the hangout for some pretty serious people, and it's been raided before for everything you can think of, gambling, drugs, prostitution.”

 

“And she thinks this guy is involved?” Himchan flipped open the front of the document and looked at the mugshot. He wasn't that old, probably the same age as Song Ahra herself, and he was handsome enough but his lips were curved into a cocky smirk. The kind of smirk someone would have if they knew they were going to get away with something.

 

“She says he's the leader. It's a whole syndicate, Himchan, operating right out of that club, and they're involved in everything from gambling to smuggling weapons and trafficking drugs, people even sometimes.” Yongguk ran his fingers through his hair, then down the side of his face.

 

A knock came at the door and Himchan flipped the folder closer, then glanced back over his shoulder.

 

“Come in.” Yongguk said.

 

Daehyun pushed the door open, “I'm sorry to interrupt, but Jae found something else. It's about the flower in her mouth.”

 

Himchan set the profile down on Yongguk's desk beside the interview transcript and together both he and Yongguk followed Daehyun back out into the main room under the vine canopy where the television screens displayed photo after photo of bodies found with Wolfsbane in their mouths.

 

“Jesus Christ...” Himchan grimaced and Daehyun nodded.

 

“There are twenty-four known cases over the past century in Busan and the surrounding areas of bodies found with these flowers in their mouths, and each victim is connected to a criminal organisation operating down there called Golden Lotus.” Youngjae explained, “There hasn't been a body found like this in over twenty years, everyone assumed they went out of business or broke up or something, but...”

 

“No one else's mouths have been sewn shut.” Junhong added and Himchan nodded. He looked over every face. Most of them were men, and the blood spilling from their chests showed most too were shot, or stabbed, nothing like the murder of their victim.

 

“It could be a copy-cat.” Daehyun suggested, and Youngjae turned to give him a skeptical look.

 

“Or it could be a reformation.”

 

“One thing is for sure, though. It's not a signature.” Himchan said, “It's a message.”

 

“A message of what?” Daehyun asked and Himchan turned towards him.

 

“That is what Jongup and I are going to Busan to find out.” He was already pulling his coat from where it had been slung over the back of his chair.

 

“Right now?” Daehyun didn't sound so sure, “Hyung we don't know anything about these guys, you don't even have a gun.”

 

“I don't do guns.” Himchan responded as Jongup followed him to his feet and began to gather his own things. He slung his coat over one arm, tucked his laptop under the other.

 

“These guys are serious, Himchan, you don't know what they're capable of.” Daehyun tried but Himchan just cast him a confident smile.

 

“Guess I'll have to be extra charming then.” He replied, “Bbang, you'll tell Sun we're on our way, yeah?”

 

Yongguk nodded. He stood with his arms folded over his chest a few metres behind Junhong, “I'll let her know you're in the area. We'll organise accommodation for you, too.”

 

Himchan nodded his thanks and slipped his coat on, then turned to face Jongup, “You ready?” He asked.

 

“As I'll ever be.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello it is me I've been sick and busy and TIRED but I hope you like this??? Some stuff is learned???? ALSO like idk I'm so sleepy ily goodnight I hope you like


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise I guess

The first thing they did was stop by Jongup's apartment. Information was still coming through from Daehyun, Youngjae and Junhong, so instead of waiting in the car Himchan followed Jongup up the stairs and into his home to fill him in on any new developments.

 

“I won't be long.” Jongup said as he tossed his coat onto the couch and Himchan nodded his head.

 

“Take your time.” He replied. Jongup crossed the small living room and disappeared through a doorway opposite, leaving Himchan to look curiously around the space. It wasn't big, but it was comfortable, lived in. The front door opened up into the living room, while the kitchen lay through a door to the right, and on the left was a row of tall bay windows looking out over the street below. There wasn't a lot of furniture, just a couch and a simple table, then a large bookcase built from the floor to the ceiling. Books took up the majority of the shelf space of course, but there were other things dotted between, picture frames and trinkets that didn't look worth much more than currency of sentiment.

 

The sound of cupboards and drawers opening and closing came from the next room while Himchan slowly stepped closer and looked curiously at a blue framed photo sitting just below eye level in between an encyclopaedia and an atlas. It was three boys, probably between ten and fifteen grinning toothily into the lens with their arms wrapped around each other's shoulders. Jongup was easily recognisable as the smallest tucked in the middle, and the boys on either side each held onto him tight as they laughed. Even from just a glance it was obvious they were brothers, everything about them was nearing on identical, from the shape of their eyes to the crooked teeth peeking out from between parted lips.

 

“Have you been to Busan before?” Jongup's voice came from the next room and Himchan straightened up.

 

“Yeah, a couple times. Not for a while, though.” He said and tucked his hands into his pockets, “You?”

 

“Never.” Jongup's voice was muffled, and Himchan took half a step to the side until he could just see around the doorframe and into the bedroom. Jongup stood with his back to the door, in the middle of pulling his shirt over his head. He should have looked away, but Himchan hesitated when he saw the way muscles moved and tensed under taught skin, smooth other than a handful of long healed scars marking patterns and shapes. A bag was sitting open on the bed beside him, and once his button down had been tossed aside, he grabbed hold of a discarded t-shirt, and a sweater to pull on over the top.

 

“Anything else come from HQ?” He called again, and Himchan quickly stepped back before he could be spotted.

 

“Nothing yet.” He turned around so his back was towards the bedroom and jumped in surprise when he came face to face with the big black eyes of a cat. Her tail swished back and forth slowly as she slipped out from beneath the coffee table and looked, unimpressed, up at him.

 

“Hello...” He greeted her. She just blinked at him and sashayed disinterestedly past, then found a spot in the sun where she stretched her legs out in front of her and arched her spine, “I didn't know you had a cat.”

 

“You didn't ask.” Another cupboard opened and shut, then the sound of a zipper whirring closed.

 

Himchan folded his arms over his chest and watched her lay herself out on the floor with her tail still swishing side to side, “What's her name?”

 

“Goyangie.” Jongup called back and Himchan quirked an eyebrow.

 

“Why did you call your cat _'Cat'_?” He asked, just as Jongup came out. His bag was slung over his shoulder, and his hair was slightly ruffled.

 

“Because she's a cat.” He replied.

 

“Will she be alright here on her own?” Himchan glanced down towards her again, continuing to ignore them both.

 

Jongup nodded, “I'll text the Ahjumma next door. She looks after her whenever I need to travel for work.” He grabbed his coat again and pulled open the door, “Let's go. We have a long drive ahead.”

 

They left Seoul behind and headed south on the freeway through Seongnam that bypassed Suwon and veered east at Yongjin. Towns and cities rose up around them, then fell away again as patchwork patterns of worked fields and thinning forests wrapped around the road. Jongup thought that after a while they would blur into one, but while clouds began to build patterns on the horizon he watched keenly as they passed snow laden fields of mud and wondered what it was that grew there in the warmer seasons. Green stems of corn, maybe, or swaying reeds of wheat, maybe even golden pastures of canola whose seeds hadn't been able to take through the harsh freeze of the lingering winter. It must be so beautiful in spring and summer when the crop's blossoms bloomed and swayed like ocean's of green caught in the currents the wind gave them, and again in Autumn when the harvest time came. There was something about Winter, though, that always made Jongup feel warm inside. There was something about Winter that reminded him of home.

 

They stopped at a truck rest just South of Sangju, near where Highway 45 intersected with 30, and watched as the sun set behind the mountains. Jongup leant against the side of the car and gazed out over the browning river, while Himchan sat on a nearby picnic table with a cigarette smouldering between his lips. They'd stopped passing snow somewhere between Chungju and Mungyeong, and as the land grew more and more uneven, fields of pasture grew fewer and further between until they faded altogether to be replaced with steep escarpments, white tipped with roots that stayed lush and evergreen.

 

The wind was picking up while rays of fading sunlight shone out from behind the mountains and set the sky alight, and Jongup watched indigo birds gripping onto nearby branches and searching for carrion in the underbrush. Their long grey beaks were hooked forward and their bulging eyes black and beady as they gathered together in the trees, singing in dysphoric harmony like an omen.

 

“Look.” Jongup said and pointed towards them.

 

“What are they?” Himchan asked, his words coming out in tendrils of smoke.

 

“They're Rooks.” Jongup replied, and glanced over his shoulder back towards Himchan, “They're the first birds to fly north again after winter. Their coming is a sign that Spring's not far off.”

 

“Tell them to hurry it up. Before I lose hope that it'll ever come at all.”

 

They spotted the lights of Busan flickering on the horizon long before they crossed over into the city limits. The mountains had parted ahead and the winding freeway slipped between them like majestic double doors and carried them towards the sea and the golden arches of the Gwangandaegyo bridge built across the water and disappearing into the sky.

 

Daehyun had sent them the address of the hotel he booked, and Jongup dictated the directions to Himchan as they went from main roads to side streets, to winding alley ways built in behind the long miles of rust red and pine green shipping containers stacked on top of one another along the seaside.

 

“It should be here, on the right.” Jongup said and leant forward to glance out the window. A little way down the road was a rundown brick building, built with two stories and a fuchsia pink neon sign flickering out front that read _Pinky Paradise._

 

Himchan pulled over on the side of the road and with his hands still at ten and two on the steering wheel he leant forward to read the sign and calmly proclaim, “One of these days, I am going to kill Jung Daehyun.”

 

Checking in was easy. The man positioned behind the desk took the fake name Daehyun had used to book the accommodation without a second glance, nor a request for ID, and Jongup figured it was his reasoning for choosing a less than reputable establishment. They took the stairs up to their room in silence, and when Himchan unlocked the door (with a disconcertingly _fuzzy_ key), it creaked slowly inwards and when his palm hit the light switch the bulbs flickered momentarily in protest, before finally relenting and turning on. Together in the doorway, Himchan and Jongup took in the room. The carpet was a garish red that matched the partially faded curtains covering the small window overlooking the car park and street below, while the wallpaper was a pasty grey. It wasn't very well furnished, other than two small bedside tables and an uncomfortable looking arm chair, and of course the one large bed positioned in the centre of the room.

 

“Oh yes.” Himchan said again, “I am definitely going to kill Jung Daehyun.”

 

He stepped over the threshold and dumped his bag on the floor, while turning around to take in the room again now that he was inside of it. Jongup watched how Himchan's lips pursed and his brows furrowed, but he didn't hesitate in gesturing to the bed, “You take it. I'll sleep on the floor.”

 

Jongup frowned, “No, you should have it. I don't mind.”

 

“I've slept in worse places than this, Jongup. Take the bed.” His voice didn't leave room for argument, and Jongup relented with a nod of his head.

 

“Alright.”

 

Files were coming through from HQ fast, covering everything from the victim's toxicology reports, to details about Golden Lotus' past executions, some of which having been committed less than a kilometre from where Himchan and Jongup were to spend the night. Time passed in silence as they sifted through page after page on their respective computer screens, Jongup with his legs crossed on the bed, Himchan leaning back in the rigid arm chair beneath the window. It was around midnight when Himchan gathered blankets from the cupboard and spread them out across the floor, while Jongup slipped easily between tightly fitted sheets, and they fell asleep listening to the sound of nearby waves crashing, cars passing on the road, foghorns out at sea, and the rhythmic breaths of each other.

 

*

 

Busan woke up grey and wanting. It wasn't as cold as Seoul, and the clouds not strong enough to carry snow were heavy laden with imminent rain as they rolled in across the ocean. They were the first thing Jongup noticed when he woke up, with his face towards the window, the second was the pile of folded blankets stacked on the seat of the arm chair, and the third was that he was alone. The hotel room was even worse in the sunlight, and beneath the window Jongup could see where the paint was cracking and peeling back from the plaster around the skirting board, while the crimson carpet was stained in patches from mud, or coffee, or something else he absolutely did not want to know. He pushed himself to sit and with one hand rubbing at his eye, he used the other to throw back the covers and reach for the shirt he'd tossed at the end of the bed the night before.

 

The heating wasn't too good, and he shivered as he pulled the shirt over his head and stepped towards the window to peer out. There weren't many cars in the lot anymore, nor driving along the road beyond it, but Jongup spied a silver sedan parked up close behind Himchan's own vehicle, and against it leant the detective deep in conversation with a woman. Each had a cigarette held between their fingers as their arms folded over their chests and they spoke in low voices, nodding along to words Jongup couldn't hear. Himchan's brows were furrowed, like they did when he thought deeply, and Jongup watched as the woman slipped forward a manila folder from where it had been tucked under her arm, and Himchan took it.

 

The rhythmic buzz of a silenced phone sounded from behind Jongup, and he stepped back from the windowsill to see Daehyun's name lighting up the screen. He grabbed it, swiped, and held it up to his ear, “Morning, Hyung.”

 

“ _Morning. You guys make it down safe?_ ” Daehyun's voice was warm and familiar, and Jongup could almost hear him smiling. He had news.

 

“Mm, it didn't take too long. The hotel you booked is... Nice.” He spared another glance around, and felt his lips twitch upwards when Daehyun laughed.

 

“ _Only the best for you guys. Where's Himchan? He wasn't answering his phone.”_

 

Jongup slipped back up alongside the window and peered out. The woman had said something, and Himchan was laughing with his head tipped back and all his teeth showing, while she watched on in amusement, “He's just stepped out. What's up?”

 

“ _We found her car. Uniform came across it early this morning. Someone reported it as abandoned, wanted to get it towed from their street.”_ Daehyun sounded pleased. Jongup could just picked the way he'd be rocking back and forward eagerly on the balls of his feet and a surprising glimmer of affection rolled through his chest. He stamped it down and cleared his throat.

 

“And it's in tact?” This could be a breakthrough, after all.

 

“ _Perfectly. I'm just waiting for Junnie to come in, then we're going to head over there and see what he can get out of it. I already know there's vomit, Junnie is going to be thrilled. Are you guys meeting the boyfriend this morning?”_

 

“Yeah, we're going soon, waiting for the address to come through from Sun's people. You'll tell us if you find something, right?” Jongup let the curtains fall closed again.

 

“ _Aye aye, El Capitan.”_

 

Himchan returned when Jongup was stepping from the shower. He'd pulled on jeans and underwear, and was rubbing a towel through his hair when the door swung closed.

 

“Morning.” He greeted.

 

“Morning.” Himchan replied, without looking Jongup's way. The manila folder he'd been given was tucked under his arm, while he held a paper coffee cup in each hand.

 

“Sleep well?” Jongup tossed the towel onto his bed.

 

“Well enough.” The two cups were set on a bedside table, “you?”

 

Jongup pulled a shirt from the top of his suitcase and pulled it over his head, “Fine.” He gestured with his head towards the folder, “What did you get?”

 

“It's Sun's file on this Lee guy.” Himchan ran his palm down his face. He looked like he hadn't slept in a week, but then again he probably hadn't, “Mostly stuff we know, but a couple of interesting extra tid-bits you can read in the car. She also gave me this.” He set the folder aside and slipped his hand into his back pocket to withdraw a small leather wallet and tossed it to Jongup. It was an ID badge, he saw when he flipped open the folded cover, almost identical to the one he already carried but with the words _Busan Metropolitan Police_ printed at the top.

 

“The Seoul ones might look conspicuous down here.” Himchan noted, then gestured with his head to the door, “We should go.”

 

They retraced their steps down winding alleys behind the seashore, then back onto side streets until finally they were shooting along main roads that wound around the mountain roots and down between trees to where suburban sprawl thinned out into properties built overlooking the water. The industrial cranes and shipping crates were silhouettes in the distance shadowed under the tall arches of Gwangandaegyo bridge, easily forgotten as they passed gated estates, fit with designer cars parked in their wide driveways and shrouded in groves of sheoak and pine.

 

They turned left down another winding street headed towards the waterfront and the bitumen faded into gravel right before they pulled up at a gate as tall as it was wide, and suspended between two stone pillars. An intercom was built into the stone, and caged in a small screen was an exceptionally bored looking security guard. Himchan rolled down his window.

 

“State your business.” Said the security guard with disinterest.

 

“We're here to see Lee Taejin.” Himchan answered. Jongup leant forward and watched the guard lift his gaze to peer into the screen at Himchan's face.

 

“Do you have an appointment?” He asked.

 

“I don't need one.” Himchan's hand slipped into the inside pocket of his coat and flipped open his wallet to flash his police ID.

 

The security guard pursed his lips, then the screen went black and the gates opened with a low mechanical buzz and Himchan drove up to the house. It was big, kind of needlessly so, with big windows and obscene pillars that didn't seem to be entirely necessary to the structural integrity of the house. Himchan paused and thought for a moment about what it was about rich people and _pillars._

 

“I count sixteen.” Jongup said, then turned his head to glance out the car's rear window. The gate was already closed behind them.

 

“Sixteen what?” Himchan quirked an eyebrow, there surely wasn't sixteen of those columns.

 

“Security cameras.”

 

Oh.

 

He was right, of course. They were placed strategically on awnings and posts around the building, so that every inch of surrounding land was easy to monitor. The gate they'd come through was tall, and the stone wall, Himchan imagined, probably wound the whole way around the property, right down to the water front.

 

“They're likely already watching us.” He said, but even as he placed his hand on the door to push it open he said, “You take the lead, I follow behind. We try to catch them off guard, and get as much information as we can.”

 

“Sounds like a plan.” Jongup agreed.

 

As they climbed from the car, the front door of the house was opening, and a security guard stepped out to meet them. His face was stony and serious, and he looked over their ID cards and badges in silence, then gestured with his head for them to follow him over the threshold and into the house. Jongup walked in front, with Himchan trailing him two steps behind with his dark eyes scanning over every inch of the place. It didn't have much soul, he decided immediately. There were no pictures of family or friends, just landscape paintings hanging from the wall evenly spaced out with doorways to various rooms between. Only a few of the doors had been left open, the first appeared like a living room that gave off an air of being outstandingly un-lived-in, the second was a dining space too grand to be anything but impersonal. Before they made it to the third though, they veered left and were lead into a large study, where a man sat behind an ebony desk placed before a wide window and flanked with security guards.

 

“Sir. Your guests.” The guard leading their way said shortly, and the man looked up.

 

Lee Taejin looked just as arrogant in person as he did in photographs. There was something about the combination of his crisp suit and styled hair, and the way the right corner of his lips twitched up when he saw them that had Himchan deciding he did not like this man at all.

 

Jongup strode into the room and stopped a metre before the desk, “I'm DCI Moon Jongup, and this is my partner DCI Kim Himchan. We've come to talk to you about a Ms Song Ahra.”

 

Lee leant forward in his seat to peer at the ID cards presented to him with a curious arch of his eyebrow, “I've never heard a Seoul accent from a Busan cop before. Haven't you strayed a little far from home?” He asked slyly. Himchan grimaced.

 

“Have to go where the work takes you.” Jongup replied shortly, then repeated, “We are here to speak to you about Song Ahra.”

 

“If you're here you'd already know she's my girlfriend.” Taejin leant back in his seat and tossed his pen onto his papers. “What's she done now?”

 

“Died.” Himchan provided, less than tactfully. Jongup didn't look back at Himchan, but he did notice the way Taejin did.

 

“What my partner means to say, is that her body was found in Seoul four days ago. We have reason to believe there was foul play.”

 

“ _Reason to believe?_ ”

 

“We are not at liberty to discuss that.” Himchan added in and took a step closer, until he was standing shoulder to shoulder with Jongup.

 

“When did you last speak to her?” The younger asked. He took a slightly gentler approach, and his expression was sympathetic as he tucked his badge back into the inside pocket of his coat.

 

Taejin lifted his fingers to run their tips along his lower lip as his brows furrowed over his eyes in what Himchan assumed to be an attempt at looking distressed. His lips twisted and his eyes scanned through the air as though searching for something as he said, “I... I guess it must have been about five days ago. I spoke with her on the phone. She'd gone up to Seoul to do some shopping, but I didn't think...” He pressed his fingertips between his eyebrows and closed his eyes.

 

“Didn't worry you that you hadn't heard from her for almost a week?” Himchan didn't believe that.

 

“Ahra is- _was-_ a grown woman. She doesn't need to report her every movement to me.” Taejin responded shortly and Jongup quirked an eyebrow.

 

“No, she doesn't.” He agreed with a nod of his head, “Though... As her long term partner, it's not so out of the question that you'd just like to talk to her, is it? Ask her how her day was, if she is enjoying her time in Seoul. I understand you used to live there together.”

 

“I'm a busy man, I don't have time to _chat_ \- Moon was it?” Lee's lips pursed.

 

“So am I, Mr. Lee.” Himchan said, “But if I were lucky enough to have a partner, I'd probably feel some concern if I hadn't heard a single thing from them in five days.”

 

“Well we must be different men, Officer.” Taejin responded tightly. “And as I said, I don't need to know her every movement. Aren't you supposed to be asking me if she has any enemies, or if I noticed her acting strangely?”

 

“How would you know if she was acting strangely if you haven't spoken to her?” Himchan countered quickly. He took a step forward, and the security guards stationed behind Taejin twitched forward a fraction of a centimetre.

 

“Did you notice anything out of the ordinary?” Jongup tried to reign the conversation back in, and thankfully Taejin broken the glare he'd been aiming at Himchan to glance beyond him to Jongup.

 

“No.” He said, “She was acting perfectly normal. She went to Seoul often, I didn't think anything of it. And she was an angel... Not a person alive didn't adore her.”

 

Jongup nodded while his eyes glanced slowly around the room. It wasn't overly furnished, aside from bookshelves built against the eastern wall, and the imposing desk that he guessed was chosen for its intimidating size. Natural light poured through the floor to ceiling window with a view overlooking a short stretch of lawn leading down to a break in the trees beyond which he could see the sea. Large container ships were passing slowly, stacked high with rusted red, faded blue and deep green crates coming or going or something in between.

 

“It's a nice view.” He commented.

 

“I like watching the ships pass by. It's calming.” Taejin said. His fingers took hold of the pen he'd thrown onto his desk and he brought it up to press the end of it gently into his lower lip, “Is that everything? As you can imagine... This news has been distressing.”

 

“I understand. For the moment, I think it's all we need. Thank you, Mr. Lee.” Jongup nodded his head, “I'll leave my number with one of your guards. If you remember anything, please give me a call.”

 

“Do you have her phone?” Lee stopped them, just as they turned to make for the door. A security guard was waiting for them just outside, presumably to escort them out.

 

“No. It hasn't been found.” Jongup replied, “Why?”

 

“There are photographs of us together on there, and I'd like to have them. Sentimental value.” Lee flashed a half smile.

 

“Her car was found this morning.” Himchan provided. Taejin's shoulders stiffened, and his eyes snapped to focus on Himchan's own, “One of the best forensic scientists in the country will be there, taking a look at it. If it's there, he'll find it.”

 

“Maybe he will.” Lee nodded, then waved his hand and they were escorted out.

 

Neither of them spoke until their car was clear of the driveway, and they were leaving the house behind them.

 

“I don't trust him.” Himchan said, while his thumbs drummed a rhythm on the steering wheel.

 

“No.” Jongup replied, “Neither do I.”

 

*

 

The car was found in an area Daehyun had never been to before. He hadn't lived in Seoul long, only since his service had wrapped up and the familiar parts of Busan had started to feel like a small town in a different world. His Hyung had told him that military service changed a man, he just hadn't been expecting how much. Either way, he didn't think his Hyung had seen what he had, and soon enough the government came knocking and making him offers he couldn't resist. His parent's eyes would water at the pay checks, if they were allowed to know what he did for work.

 

“Wasn't it a left back there?” Junhong asked and glanced over his shoulder, then glanced back down to the map he was following on the screen of his phone. Putting the two of them together really was the blind leading the blind, one from Busan, the other from even further. The maknae turned his phone around and made a face, “Wait no- my bad, my bad.”

 

“You seriously can't read a map.” Daehyun sighed. He'd always been good at directions, Junhong... Not so much.

 

“Yeah well you can't complete a heart transplant.” Junhong replied.

 

“Neither can you.” Daehyun rolled his eyes.

 

“Just cause I've never tried it doesn't mean I can't. I'd do a better job than you.”

 

Daehyun sighed and rubbed a hand down his face,“I need coffee.”

 

“I need a cigarette.”

 

“No you don't.”

 

Up ahead blue lights were flashing, and Daehyun turned left. The street was narrow, it ran along behind a series of apartment blocks, sandwiched in between their garbage bins and the brick wall of an empty warehouse waiting to be demolished. Police tape cut off the street and two patrol cars were stopped just beyond it with uniformed officers milling around, and a hundred metres beyond sat an empty blue sedan.

 

Daehyun pulled over, and both he and Junhong got out of the car, “DI Jung Daehyun.” He greeted an officer guarding the tape by flashing his badge – a forgery too, claiming he worked for the Seoul PD, “This is Dr. Choi, forensics.”

 

“Morning.” Junhong greeted with a smile once his case was out of the car and together they crossed under the tape and into the crime scene. Uniform parted to let them through, and while Junhong's eyes were focused on the vehicle ahead, Daehyun looked around the surrounding area.

 

All of it must have been warehouses once, until the first were torn down in the nineties to build more housing. The apartment blocks were grey and water stained, Brutalist in design though he doubted that was intentional, it was a strangely conspicuous place to dump a car.

 

“Who found it?” Junhong asked as they approached the vehicle.

 

“Someone from the building complained that it'd been in a no parking zone for a few days. Uniform ran the plates, and it was passed over to us.” Daehyun said. It was in tact, other than a few scratches on the passenger door. The windows were tinted, and Junhong had to lean closer to peer through them.

 

“Is that vomit?” He asked with seriously way too much excitement.

 

Daehyun grimaced, “Yeah, thought you'd like that.”

 

“You know just what to do to make my day, Hyung.” The maknae gave him a toothy grin and started going about his work. He pulled on his cover-alls first, the funny white plastic things he wore when touching potentially useful stuff. Daehyun had never told him, but he thought he looked kinda like an astronaut when he had them on, either that or an alien.

 

It didn't take long for Junhong to get the car door open and start poking around inside. He took samples of the vomit on the seat and the floor, then started dusting for fingerprints while his brows furrowed low over his eyes.

 

“How long do you think you'll be?” Daehyun asked.

 

“A while, probably.” Junhong had crawled most of the way into the back seat of the car brandishing a pair of silver tweezers. Daehyun wasn't really sure what he was looking for, but he knew their maknae well enough to know it was something important.

 

After a moment, Junhong climbed dejectedly from the vehicle, “We don't have somewhere of our own to take the car back. I want to find as much as I can now so I don't need to make a thousand trips to the police warehouses.”

 

“Alright. I'm going to take a look around. You give me a shout if you need me, yeah?”

 

“You got it, Hyung.”

 

Daehyun took half the officers and went back the way they'd come, veering left up into the abandoned warehouses. They'd been used for supplies during the war, he understood, metal and wood, things they couldn't afford to lose. It had been over two decades since they'd become derelict, and save from the handful of graffiti tags he saw, there was no sign of people having been there for a long time. Probably a better place to dump a body than the inside of an apartment building, he thought. Unless, whoever put it there wanted it to be found.

 

“Spread out.” He gestured to the wide expanse of space. Might as well see if they could find something useful.

 

Junhong spent the better half of an hour inside the car, scouring it for any evidence he could possibly find, while the remaining uniformed officers stayed at a healthy distance back towards the tape. He couldn't quite understand why, but then again he'd stopped being able to really notice the smell of human bodies about three quarters into the first year of medical school. Samples of vomit, strands of hair, dustings of dirt and scraps of rubbish were lined up in neatly labelled jars and evidence bags by his case, but he felt like he was missing something. There was no phone, no bag, wallet or keys anywhere in the car. Surely, they had to be somewhere.

 

He was half inside the boot of the car when he heard the footsteps approaching, “Find much?” He asked, assuming it was Daehyun coming back from his exploration. Silence. He looked up.

 

Two men were walking towards him, coming from the other end of the dead end road, dressed all in black with hoods covering their heads.

 

“Excuse me this is a crime scene, you shouldn't be here.” Junhong said, but the men kept coming. One had something he couldn't see tucked under his arm, and Junhong took a step back on instinct, “I said you shouldn't be-”

 

His words were cut off when one of the men sailed a hard punch into his stomach that left him gasping for breath while the other wrenched open the car door. He tore into fabric seats and through the glovebox, uncaring as to how much carnage he caused in his desperate search for something.

 

“Stop!” Junhong tried, but he was hit again, harder this time and he doubled over in pain. Another hit came, and this time he was sent sprawling back onto the pavement. It didn't stop him, though, from kicking out his legs at the other man's shins, earning him a grunt of pain, but his advantage wasn't as great as he thought, and in his attempt to rise from the ground, he was thrown back down again. He kicked again, but this time was dodged and instead a heavily booted foot came down hard onto his right arm with a deafening crunch.

 

Junhong screamed out in pain and quickly brought his broken arm in to cradle against his chest while watching helplessly as the second man emptied a petrol can over the roof and inside of the torn up cabin, “Stop-” He tried again, but it was too late.

 

A match was thrown in, and the whole thing went up in flames.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello... So... It's been a while. Sorry for the sudden unannounced hiatus, didn't mean to do that but hey I'm back. I hope everyone had a lovely Christmas, Hanukkah, New Year or anything else you celebrate. This fic is seriously the hardest fic I've ever written, so I'm not sure I can guarantee much of a schedule but it will come when it comes, and I hope it is enjoyed when it does!  
> Super special thank you to my man lady Laura, who's had my back this past few months and still stayed keen to know what's coming. Also thank you to anyone reading this after approx a thousand years without a chapter.
> 
> x


	9. Chapter 9

The call came not ten minutes after they returned to the hotel. It was Youngjae's name that flashed across Himchan's screen, and when he answered he tucked his phone between his shoulder and ear while flicking through the pages of the file on Lee Taejin.

 

“Hey.” He greeted, “We just got back from interviewing the boyfriend. He knows more than he lets off, and from the amount of security guards and cameras he has around his house, Sun sounds right in her suspicions he's involved with Golden Lotus.”

 

“ _Hyung...”_ Youngjae replied a moment later, and Himchan set the folder down onto the bed. Something was wrong.

 

“What's happened?” The tension in his voice must have been obvious, because Jongup looked up from his own computer screen and frowned.

 

“ _It's Junhong. Some people turned up when he was examining the car. He's... Hyung they beat him up, and set the car on fire.”_

 

Himchan ran his hand over his face, then up through his hair, “Shit- Shit!” In one fluid movement, he knocked the file from the edge of the mattress, sending papers flying onto the floor, “How badly is he hurt?”

 

“ _He's okay. Mostly just bruising, cuts and scratches from the pavement. His arm is broken, though, he said one of them stepped on it.”_ Youngjae sighed, _“Daehyun heard him screaming, but Jun said it all happened really quick. Uniform didn't have time to react until the guys were already running away. They must have been nearby, though, to know the car had been found.”_

 

“This is my fault.” Himchan clenched his jaw, “I told Lee Taejin the car had been found. I taunted him and this is him calling me out on it.”

 

Youngjae was silent for a moment, then he cleared his throat, _“Yongguk's gonna be pissed.”_

 

“I know.”

 

Soon, the call ended and Himchan paced back and forth in the confined space of their small room. Jongup was watching, seated crossed legged on the bed with his laptop balanced on his knees, only his eyes moving to follow each movement.

 

“Bad news?” He prompted.

 

Himchan relayed the message Youngjae had given him, and Jongup remained calm and thoughtful. He set his laptop aside and leant back on one arm while his brows furrowed over his eyes.

 

“He knows you'll know that he sent those people.” He said, but Himchan shook his head.

 

“He also knows me knowing isn't good for anything. We have no evidence of that, he'd just claim it's a coincidence.”

 

“I know, I'm not talking about evidence.” Jongup waved the thought aside and swung his legs off the edge of the bed, “My point is he knows you'll know, but he is confident enough to think you can't do anything about it.”

 

“So?” Himchan asked impatiently.

 

“He's cocky and he's arrogant, he is going to slip up eventually if we wait, and I think I know just the place to go to do exactly that.” Jongup turned the laptop around, it was open on a document and Himchan stepped closer to read the print, “Golden Lotus has been connected to a night club on the waterfront, _The Rook_. It's big, built in some kind of converted warehouse beside one of the shipping yards not far from here. Apparently they use it for all their networking, plus I can imagine it'd be useful for laundering. If Lee is involved with them to the extent that Sun alleges, he'll spend a lot of his time there.”

 

Another call came through, this time from Yongguk, “I need to take this.” Himchan said, and Jongup quirked a half smile.

 

“I'll find the address.”

 

*

 

It was late when they finally stepped out from their hotel room hideaway. Jongup hadn't taken long to find the club's address, but they had waited off until they knew it would be busy, so they could together disappear into the crowds of people. Himchan doubted they'd be recognised even if they did draw attention, but he wasn't really into the idea of taking that chance.

 

It wasn't snowing, but there was a thin layer of ice forming on the car's windscreen when the engine roared to life, and their breath came out in billowing clouds even as the car's heating blew onto their frozen faces. Jongup rubbed his hands together in front of the vent, while Himchan tapped a rhythm again on the steering wheel.

 

“What's the song?” Jongup asked.

 

Himchan shrugged, “I can't remember anymore.”

 

They parked a little way down the street from _The Rook_ , behind a couple of parked lorries used to transport containers from the ships, and walked the rest of the way. It was darker there, but they could already hear the thumping sound of nearby music, so loud it almost made the pooled water in dips on the road tremble and shake with its beat. Up ahead, two bouncers were stationed out front, under a red neon sign that had no words, only the illustrated outline of a bird's head equipped with the long hooked beak of a Rook.

 

“Here it goes.” Himchan said.

 

They made it into the club without issue, and took in the sight before them. It was wide and open, with a bustling dance floor placed between them and the bar stretched along the back wall and pillars dotted throughout supporting the balcony up above that wrapped around the building's perimeters leaving the middle open so those leaning against the banister could look down on the dancing below. The lights had been dimmed, but bright colours flashed in time to the music while the mass of bodies moved as one.

 

Himchan turned his head and watched Jongup watching the crowd. His expression was blank, or guarded, or whatever it always was, though he guessed his mind was probably working fast as it calculated the space around them.

 

“Come on.” Himchan interrupted those thoughts that were probably there, “I'll get you a drink.”

 

“I don't drink when I'm working.” Jongup replied, and turned his head a fraction towards Himchan.

 

“Nor do you smile, apparently.”

 

For a beat, Jongup just looked at him, then his lips twitched into, well... Something at least. He didn't respond, he just followed Himchan as he started pushing his way through the crowd. People parted ways, then folded back into them and they kept losing sight of one another only to end up shoulder to shoulder again. When they made it to the bar, Jongup turned away from Himchan while he ordered and scanned the room instead.

 

“Gin and tonic please, and a lemonade for this one.” Himchan gestured with his thumb over his shoulder to Jongup. The barman lifted his gaze to where Jongup stood, and Himchan gave his best charming grin, “He's driving.”

 

If Himchan noticed the way Jongup rolled his eyes, he didn't say anything, he just turned around and handed him the glass while following his gaze around the room.

 

“See anything?” He asked, then took a sip of his drink.

 

“No, but I'd like to know what's happening up on the balcony.”

 

Both of them glanced up. From under the awning, not a lot was visible, just the outline of a banister, and a few curious faces peering down over it to the dancing. It was crowded down where they were, too much so for much business to take place, and Himchan and Jongup both knew if this establishment was used for anything less than reputable, upstairs would be where it happened.

 

“Come on.” Himchan only had time for another sip when Jongup was taking his glass from his hand and setting it down on the bar again, “Dance with me.”

 

Himchan'd had a couple ideas of where that night was going to lead, most of them following along the lines of upmost professionalism, and none of which involved Jongup taking his hand and guiding him confidently through a crowd of people onto the dance floor. His hands were guided to Jongup's waist, while arms wound around his neck and brought him in closer. The whole thing would probably have been more romantic if Jongup didn't seem so determined to look anywhere in the vicinity other than Himchan. Not that Himchan _needed_ him to be looking but surely that was some kind of courtesy when two people were pressed together the way they were.

 

A young woman pushed through the crowd behind Jongup, forcing their bodies impossibly closer, and Himchan found his eyes had been fixed to a little patch of exposed skin just below Jongup's ear. He wasn't sure what had him so transfixed, but his hair there was short, and the club's dim light was casting a sharp shadow down from his jawbone. Without thinking about all that aforementioned professionalism, he leant forward towards it.

 

“See anything?” He asked again, trying not to notice the way his lips brushed over the skin, or how the ends of his hair tickled his nose.

 

“Not yet.” Jongup replied, and shifted to turn them around so he could look around the balcony while his body swayed and rocked in time to the thumping beat. He moved like a natural, and Himchan's hands slid comfortably along his waist to the small of his back where he could feel each muscle twitching and twisting under the skin.

 

“You never mentioned you can dance.” Jongup's spine arched and rolled, his whole torso pressed in so close to Himchan's that the detective could feel sweat beading beneath his shirt from the heat of him.

 

“You never asked.” The voice came right into his ear, and Himchan turned into it as the palm of his hand traced up Jongup's spine, one vertebrae at a time. He thought he could feel every single one of them moving, embraced by taught muscle and stretching skin, like poetry in his hands.

 

He chuckled, “Not really a common question.” He noted while Jongup's fingers ghosted across the back of his neck, making him shiver.

 

“We don't know one another very well.” Jongup added, with a laugh of his own that was soft and breathy. Himchan closed his eyes.

 

“No.” He said, “We don't.”

 

The music was so loud that Himchan thought he could feel it in his veins and he knew it was probably likely to be ringing in his ears well into the next day but he did his best to ignore it while his eyes scanned the crowds around them, and Jongup's did the same over the balcony up above. This time, when Jongup spoke into his ear, his voice was serious.

 

“Seven o'clock up on the mezzanine.” He said, already moving around to guide Himchan to where he could see. His gaze rose up and scanned across faces, until it found a familiar one. Lee Taejin was leaning against the banister with a drink in one hand while he gazed out over the mass of bodies moving below. He was surrounded, as Himchan guessed could be expected, two burly security guards flanking a group of men and women, all chatting amongst themselves.

 

“Lee.” Himchan said with a frown and Jongup nodded.

 

“Yes, and look who is beside him.” He said, while glancing sidelong at Himchan's face.

 

The detective squinted against the flashing lights and scanned over the other faces, he didn't recognise any of them until Lee Taejin turned to speak to a man off to his right, who said something in response, then bowed low. It took Himchan a fraction of a second to realise where he'd seen that face before until it clicked and he remembered the man who had been watching them in the forest, the morning Song Ahra's body had been found.

 

“How interesting.” Himchan stated while watching the man disappear into the crowd, “He's on the move.”

 

“Let's go.”

 

They made it free of the dancing crowd just in time to watch their forest shadow come down the stairs and make for the door with three others, one a man, two women and all looking formidable at best. At the door they collected their coats and stepped back out onto the street where they turned left towards the docks.

 

Jongup was itching to follow, but Himchan pulled away and stopped at the front counter, presenting the attendant behind it with their cloak room tags, “Just getting our coats.” He smiled charmingly, while Jongup gazed intently after Lee's men. Every moment they stalled was a moment they were getting away, Winter or not.

 

“Did you enjoy your evening?” The attendant asked, looking at Jongup's intense gaze with something a little too close to suspicion.

 

“Oh yeah heaps.” Himchan nodded and wrapped his arm around Jongup's middle, jostling him just enough as he pulled him closer to his side to bring his eyes forward again, “Isn't that right, Sweetheart?”

 

“Sure.” Jongup replied, with a forced smile of his own.

 

They took their coats from the curious man, and stepped out into the cold. Himchan rubbed his hands together once they were safely back in his gloves, Jongup did his buttons up right to his chin and together they went left, following their targets.

 

“Sweetheart?” Jongup asked, as they fell into step beside one another.

 

“He was suspicious. We look less like cops if we're on a date.” Himchan replied.

 

For the second time that night, the corner of Jongup's lips twitched upwards, “Well for next time, I prefer 'Baby.' Sweetheart makes us both sound old.”

 

It didn't take long for them to catch up to Lee's men. Within a hundred metres of _The Rook_ , the streets gave way to long lanes of shipping crates, stacked in neat regiments on top of one another. Large cranes towered over them at the edge, and the intermittent, stark lights sent long shadows over the patchwork patterns of mustard yellow, rusty red, ocean blue and forest green metal. The group they followed were out of earshot, but neither Himchan or Jongup were too fussed about that, at least one had seen them before and they couldn't risk getting close enough to be recognised.

 

With a brush of his hand against Jongup's elbow, Himchan lead them around a high stack of crates and into the next alleyway over. _The Rook_ 's thumping music and massing crowds were far enough away that the sound was hardly anything but background music, mixing with the rhythm of lapping water and the slap of their footsteps against the wet ground. There were very few places to hide if one of Lee's men were to cast a glance over their shoulder.

 

Jongup reached his hand out and ran it along the side of a red shipping crate. The metal was cold, so much so that it almost burned to touch it, but he liked the feeling of the rough metal under his skin, feeling for where the paint was cracking and peeling away from the rusting wall beneath. These crates could have come off ships from anywhere, carrying anything, and from the outside there was no way of knowing what was hidden within. He wondered where they came from, whether it was China or Japan, maybe somewhere south like Australia, or as far as the Gulf states in the west. Golden Lotus was importing something, the mystery lay in _what._

 

They turned a corner and headed East to where they could see rows of container ships docked in the distance, like colossal monsters on the horizon. Their black hulls almost blended into the night sky, if it weren't for the flashing lights radiating from atop their mammoth towers, and the strip of red painted around their base, where their bodies met the water. Assembled neatly in rows, it looked like a graveyard, and for a moment, Himchan found himself wondering if it was.

 

Up ahead, docked not too far away was a much smaller ship. Warm light was spilling from its cabin, and it swayed from side to side in the chopping water while a man stepped out onto the deck and beckoned the four aboard. Himchan and Jongup watched as he presented the group with a box, opening the lid for them to inspect, then shutting it when the forest shadow nodded his head. Someone made a gesture that couldn't be seen from where they stood, and soon there was movement as several others emerged from inside, each carrying boxes in their arms.

 

“What are they transporting?” Himchan asked, not expecting an answer. He ducked down low and moved with his shoulder brushing alongside the container and Jongup hot on his heels until they stood less than a hundred metres from where the boxes were being piled on the dock. On closer inspection, they weren't boxes at all but small wooden crates nailed shut at their top. Himchan leant forward and inched just that little bit further, to try and read the writing printed on the side, but the movement wasn't slow enough, and Jongup's stomach dropped as he saw a man on the ship pause as he looked towards them, then point in their direction.

 

“Himchan-” Jongup said and reached his hand out to grab his bicep as one by one everyone on the ship turned to face them.

 

“Run!”

 

As soon as they turned, Jongup heard shouting and not even a moment later, Lee's men were in pursuit. He could hear Himchan not far behind him as he sprinted along the concrete, trying to remember the route they'd come. The lanes were all blending into one as they twisted and turned, trying to retrace their steps, but each corner slowed them down until all of a sudden three of Lee's men were on them.

 

Jongup turned to dodge a punch aimed at his head and managed to sail a kick hard into a strongly built man's side, sending him toppling over onto the concrete. When he turned again, a woman came at him fast, but Himchan flipped his own assailant over in front of her and she tripped before either man had to engage.

 

“Watch out!” Jongup called just in time to see the second woman slam hard into Himchan's side from a run, knocking him off his feet and skidding on his side across the pavement. He didn't cry out, but Jongup saw the pain in his expression, and as she turned her back on him to rush Himchan again, he grabbed her shoulder and hooked his right leg around her left to knock her off her feet while breaking her arm on the way down. More footsteps were coming, they didn't have time to think, and so Jongup grabbed Himchan and hauled him to his feet and they were off again.

 

Voices called out, Jongup guessed more of Lee's men had found their injured colleagues, but he didn't look back. In only a few turns they made it onto the road again to where the car was, still hidden behind the lorries.

 

“Are you hurt?” Jongup asked as Himchan unlocked the doors. He had a hand pressed against his side below his shirt, and when he pulled it free Jongup saw a smear of blood. He grimaced, “I'll drive.”

 

Thankfully, Himchan didn't protest and within a few moments they were speeding towards the main road. Jongup glanced repeatedly in the rear vision mirror, checking for movement behind them while Himchan pressed his hand down gingerly against his side. Out of the corner of his eye, Jongup saw lights, and a slight glance past Himchan confirmed a car was coming towards them.

 

“Nothing is ever simple.” Himchan groaned as he lifted his free hand up to grip the handle bar positioned above the window, and Jongup couldn't help but smile.

 

He pressed his foot hard down on the accelerator while both hands gripped the wheel, desperate to shake off the bigger vehicle as it pulled in behind them, but the lanes were narrow, there wasn't much of an escape. A series of loud pops came, and with another glance, Jongup saw the gun as it came out of the trailing vehicle's passenger window, until a bullet smashed the wing mirror.

 

Himchan cursed colourfully and ducked down low as another smashed the rear windscreen, but Jongup didn't let up. They were getting closer to the intersection with the main road, it was only a matter of seconds. What Lee could get away in the secluded yard would cause chaos on the city streets, and not even he was powerful enough to take the risk of his men getting captured.

 

“Jongup-” Himchan said. The light ahead of them went from red to green, but it was too far, they weren't going to make it. Rows of cars were waiting their turn to cross in front of the mouth of the laneway, they were going to get cut off, with their pursuers right behind them, “Jongup-” Himchan said again, more tense this time. He needed to slow down, but he was accelerating.

 

It was only two hundred metres, a hundred and fifty, one hundred, less and right as the light turned red, Jongup blitzed the car through across the intersection and past the waiting traffic that lurched into movement the second they were clear. A series of horns blew, but with one glance over his shoulder, Himchan realised they made it, and Lee's men had been cut off. He slumped back in his seat and closed his eyes.

 

“Fuck.” Jongup couldn't help but laugh.

 

*

 

They dumped the car a kilometre away from the hotel and walked the rest of the way. Even if Lee's people didn't catch the plates, the smashed out windscreen and bullet pierced wing mirror were easily recognisable and they both agreed they'd taken too many risks already that night.

 

Adrenaline was thumping hard through Himchan as he closed the room's curtains and tossed his wet overcoat down onto the armchair, “Whatever was in those boxes, they didn't want us to know they had them.” He said, and winced as he touched his side again.

 

“Sit down, and take your shirt off.” Jongup instructed. He had a way of talking that didn't give room for argument, even though he was so softly spoken and Himchan did as he was told.

 

Jongup discarded his own coat and rummaged through his suitcase to emerge with a first aid kit, then lay it out on the bed and rolled up his sleeves. The graze across Himchan's side wasn't too deep, thankfully, but more than enough blood was seeping from the lacerations smudged with dirt and embedded with a few fragments of gravel. The ex-soldier was stoic and didn't seem to mind as Jongup carefully began picking them from his open wound.

 

“Junhong'd probably be doing this better.” Jongup commented to break the silence.

 

Himchan snorted and leant back on both arms, “His bedside manner is kind of lacking. He's used to his patients being dead.”

 

“He's pretty amazing to be where he is at his age.” Jongup dropped a small stone onto a section of the bedspread. A drip of blood seeped into the fabric and crept its way up the thread, creating an abstract pattern.

 

“He's more than amazing.” Himchan closed his eyes, he figured it was better not to look, “He was in medical school by fourteen, graduated by eighteen. He's a complete genius.”

 

There was a familial warmth in Himchan's voice, and when Jongup looked he could see the corners of his lips had twitched into an involuntary smile. He was proud of the doctor, as Jongup was sure anyone would be. “Did you meet him in the army?” He asked.

 

“No.” Himchan opened his eyes again, “Junhong doesn't need to do his service, he isn't a citizen of Korea.”

 

At this Jongup blinked and glanced up at him. The expression was a question in its self, and Himchan continued, “He's Canadian, adopted by a Canadian couple out of an orphanage in Mokpo as a baby. He grew up in Toronto, then moved to study medicine at Oxford in the UK. If you think his Korean is good, you should hear him speaking French.”

 

“How'd he end up in the Unit?” Jongup set the tweezers aside and soaked a cotton pad in antiseptic. Himchan hissed when it was pressed to the split skin, but didn't resist its burn.

 

“The same way any of us did. Yongguk.”

 

Jongup used medical tape to adhere layers of gauze across Himchan's wound. The bleeding had stopped, but tomorrow they'd see the full extent of the bruising, and Jongup doubted it would be pretty. They both washed up and changed clothes, and all of a sudden the adrenaline was fading and exhaustion was starting to set in.

 

“I'll call HQ in the morning.” Himchan rubbed a hand over his face while Jongup lay back across the mattress. It was late, well after midnight, and Himchan started gathering the parts for his improvised bed on the floor.

 

“You're hurt.” Jongup said and struggled to push himself upright. His arms were starting to feel unsteady, and his eyes heavy, “You take the bed.”

 

Himchan stopped and looked at the wide mattress, and Jongup slowly losing consciousness atop it.

 

“There's room for us both.” He decided, and dropped to lay back at Jongup's side. In the dark, neither had the energy to think about the proximity and the last thing Himchan remembered before he fell asleep was the rhythm of Jongup's breathing, and the warmth of a body pressed against him.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello sorry I disappeared for a month being an adult is tiring. This chapter isn't too long, but I hope you enjoy it! Thank you as always to Laura, without whom I'd be lost, confused and incredibly bored.


	10. Chapter 10

Jongup woke to the sound of pattering rain, traffic and a foghorn somewhere out at sea. He didn't want to open his eyes, not when the blankets wrapped around him were cozy and soft, and the space beside him still felt warm. The sound of movement was coming from elsewhere, but it was easy to ignore as he turned his head to nuzzle down into the lumpy pillow, and he wondered just how long it had been since he'd slept that well.

 

“No, he's still asleep.” Jongup registered the hushed words, and his brows furrowed lower over his closed eyes. He wanted to ignore Himchan's voice, just to chase sleep that little bit longer, though he knew he couldn't disregard it forever.

 

“I don't want to take that risk either, but I don't know how many other options we have.”

 

It had to be Yongguk he was speaking to, Jongup had spent enough time with the Unit to know how his voice changed when he spoke to different members. With Daehyun it was always patient and brotherly, with Youngjae it was warm, with Junhong he always sounded so endeared, and with Agent Jin annoyed. With Yongguk, though, he sounded honest, equal. They spoke like friends and comrades, and though Yongguk was his superior on paper, he listened to Himchan's thoughts just as faithfully as he listened to his own. Probably more.

 

The call to Probably-Yongguk ended, and Jongup listened to the following silence. Himchan was breathing slowly and steadily, wherever he was, and from where Jongup lay in bed he wondered how hard he'd have to try before he actually _heard_ him thinking. A wash of light came over him, and finally Jongup opened his eyes.

 

Himchan was standing by the window, still wearing the clothes he'd slept in the night before, with his hair mussed and tousled from sleep. A pair of black framed glasses were perched on his nose, and while one hand pressed the corner of his phone to his lips thoughtfully, the other pulled the curtains back just a little bit for him to gaze between them, and into the city beyond.

 

Jongup moved, Himchan startled, then he turned and smiled at him with a warmth that hadn't quite been there before. Jongup pushed himself to sit up with his back to the headboard and returned it.

 

“Morning.” He greeted and ran his fingers through his own hair. It probably looked stupid. Not that he was even thinking about that- or would care if it did.

 

“Morning. Sleep well?”

 

“Yeah. You?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Jongup was relieved that things didn't feel awkward, even though they'd slept so close the night before. He had fallen asleep almost as soon as he'd closed his eyes, and he was suddenly extremely aware of all the potentially embarrassing or stupid things he could have done in his sleep. Which again, obviously, wouldn't even matter if they happened.

 

“How's Yongguk?” He ignored his brain to ask, nodding towards the phone still held up to Himchan's lips. If Himchan was surprised at the assumption, he didn't voice it.

 

“He's good. Worried. I told him about what happened last night, I don't think any of us were expecting to get shot at.” Himchan cracked a small smile and let the curtain fall back. It cast the room into a kind of muddy darkness, but Jongup could still see that Himchan was watching him. “Whatever it is they're transporting, they didn't like that someone saw it, and I want to find out what it is.”

 

“What does he think?”

 

“He thinks it's too dangerous and that we should come home.” Himchan's lip twitched into a lopsided smile, “Lee's people know what we look like now. We can't risk visiting him again, or going back to the club, or going anywhere really, especially since the car is messed up, he wants us to go back to Seoul and try to work on leads there, or try and find something we can use to pin Lee down.”

 

“And you disagree.” Jongup could see the look in Himchan's eyes, if Yongguk had given Himchan an order they'd be half packed by then.

 

“Lee is involved, you and I both know that, but we don't know what it is he's importing, or why it is so secret, and more importantly, how it involves Song Ahra. Our answers are in Busan, and some of them are wherever it is they are storing their cargo.” Himchan nodded, “Daehyun and Youngjae are looking through records and intelligence from Golden Lotus, if there is a known warehouse, structure, safe house or _anything_ under Lee's name or company, they'll find it.”

 

Jongup rested his elbows on his knees and leant forward a little, “What do we do until then?”

 

Once again, Himchan slipped his fingers between the curtains and pulled them back just enough to peer out onto the street. The sliver of light running down his face highlighted the lines around his mouth, and the bags under his eyes, but his skin glowed like gold and his eyes brewed a storm, “We wait, I guess.”

 

*

 

The elevator opened with a _ding!_ And Daehyun stepped out onto the mezzanine above Unit 12's headquarters. Snowflakes caught on his shoulders and in his hair were melting into beaded droplets as he unwrapped his scarf from his neck and plodded down the stairs towards the bank of desks, where Youngjae was already bent furrow-browed over his computer.

 

“Morning.” Daehyun greeted cheerfully.

 

Youngjae didn't even glance up, “Morning.” He replied. A paper cup of coffee was sitting in front of him, and his glasses were perched on the bridge of his nose while he stared at the screen like it was offending him. Daehyun knew that expression well, words tended to muddle into one when you'd been staring at them for hours.

 

“Did you sleep?” He asked, and hung up his coat and scarf.

 

Finally, Youngjae pulled his eyes from the screen and leant back in his chair, “A little. I slept on the couch in Junnie's office.” He said with a half smile.

 

“Where'd Jun sleep?”

 

Youngjae gestured with his head towards Yongguk's office, and Daehyun responded by forming his lips into an understanding _oh,_ with a raise of both brows.

 

“Did you find anything?”

 

“No... Yes. I don't know.” Youngjae ran a hand down over his face, “I've been reading old transcriptions and watching interview tapes of known Golden Lotus members, trying to find information on anything, what they're importing, where they keep it, who Lee Taejin even _is_.”

 

“And nothing yet?”

 

“Nothing relevant. Can confirm these guys are pretty fucked up, though.” Youngjae made a face and pushed his chair back from the desk so he could stand up. He did so with a groan, and stretched his arms high above his head, then glanced at Daehyun again, “Himchan called this morning.”

 

Youngjae explained to Daehyun what Yongguk had told him, about the visit to the club, then the chase through the shipping yards and the gunfire that followed. Daehyun's lips were twisted into a deep frown and Youngjae gestured again towards the open screen of his laptop.

 

“They've killed people for less. Yongguk wanted them to come home but...”

 

“But Himchan.”

 

“Yeah... But Himchan.”

 

After only a moment on his feet, Youngjae dropped back into his chair again, as though he'd forgotten why he stood up in the first place.

 

“I just don't _get_ this.” He said with a shake of his head.

 

“What?” Daehyun prompted. Youngjae was prone to half-thoughts, and little explanation. A symptom of being an out-loud-thinker, he suspected.

 

“Why Song Ahra? Why would Golden Lotus kill Song Ahra?” He asked, and Daehyun sighed. It was a hell of a good question.

*

 

The thought occurred to Daehyun when he and Youngjae were in the elevator heading down towards Junhong's floor that afternoon. He didn't know where it came from, or why it resonated so much, but he turned to his friend and said “How much do you think Ahra knew?”

 

“About Golden Lotus?” Youngjae tipped his head. The elevator doors slid open and the two of them stepped from the cabin and across the vestibule to the automatic doors that let them through towards the lab.

 

“Yeah, the imports, the operation, how much would she know? She was studying at university, worked for a bank, it all sounds so _normal,_ but Sun says Lee Taejin and her were already together when he came into control of the syndicate. If she was just thrown into this... How much could she know?”

 

The lab smelled like a mixture of bleach, oil and burnt plastic, and both Youngjae and Daehyun made a face as they stepped over the threshold. Evidence tubs filled with bits of dismantled car were lined up along every bench, leaving hardly a spare centimetre of space for them to be examined. Each was labelled neatly with little hand written tags: _Steering Wheel_ was one, _Left Back Seat Headrest_ was another. Youngjae looked between them while Daehyun continued his thought.

 

“What if she told?” He asked, and finally Youngjae looked at him.

 

“Told who? Sun and her people are investigating him, and they would have told us if she was an informant.” He said, and Daehyun's shoulders hunched with slight defeat.

 

“I haven't thought of _who_ yet.”

 

Further along the counter, the door to Junhong's office was open and they could just see the head of their Doctor where it leant against the back of the couch. His eyes were closed and his brows furrowed, while his lips turned down into a frown and as Youngjae and Daehyun came closer, they saw Yongguk standing up facing him with his arms folded and leaning against the glass partition that served as a viewing screen into the cutting room.

 

“Hey.” Daehyun greeted, though lacking the same chirpiness he'd had with Youngjae.

 

Junhong didn't look happy, and his casted right arm was folded across the front of his chest as he took in slow breaths.

 

“Jun?” Youngjae frowned and Yongguk glanced at him.

 

“We got the DNA back on the hairs found in Ahra's car.”

 

“And?” Daehyun perked up again.

 

“One was hers, the other had no match. Not a single match. Not in the police database, not in the military database, government, medical. Nothing. Nowhere.” Junhong opened his eyes and tipped his head back so he could look at the others.

 

“So... It's someone who has never committed a crime, done their military service, worked for the government or had some kind of rare illness?” Youngjae surmised.

 

“Or who isn't even Korean at all.” Daehyun pointed out.

 

Yongguk pushed himself off from where he was leaning so he could stand at his full height, “Or has had their record wiped.”

 

“Is that possible?” Daehyun frowned. Not even _they_ were without a record.

 

The director just looked at him and after a long moment shrugged one shoulder and made for the door.

 

“Hyung?” Junhong called after him.

 

“I need to make some phone calls.” Was all he said, before the lab doors dinged open again.

 

For a moment the three men were silent. Youngjae was doing that thing where his brows furrowed and his eyes flicked from side to side, as though he was actually seeing his thoughts written out in front of him, while Junhong absently rubbed at the rough fabric of his cast. Since the night before, an artwork had been painted in black, blue and red on a white background, detailing the intricate workings of the inside of his arm, from bone to nerves, to veins as well. Daehyun knew he couldn't have done it with his left hand, and his heart clenched at the thought of the happiness their leader and maknae must share, behind locked doors. He didn't know anyone so deserving of love than them, other than maybe a stern detective with a heart too big for his chest.

 

“Do you think Himchan and Jongup have... _Y'know_.” He asked them both.

 

“Moved beyond their differences to find an equal and professional standing?” Youngjae suggested curtly and Daehyun grinned.

 

“Yeah. Something like that.”

 

*

 

When the sun finally set, Himchan opened the curtains. Sometime during the day the rain had stopped and the clouds had washed out to sea, leaving the sky clear and open. Since the moment Himchan hung up his call with Yongguk that morning they'd been pouring over the same files and documents they'd read a thousand times, desperate to find something they had missed before, but the information only repeated its self over and over. They were chasing their tails around in circles, only to end up with more questions, and less answers.

 

Even in the dark, it was still too risky to be seen, so they didn't turn any lights on, but instead lowered themselves down to sit side by side on the floor, their backs leaning carefully against the bed frame, and their papers and computers left a metre away, surrounded by the wrappers of whatever snacks could be found in the seedy hotel's ancient vending machines.

 

“I've never been to Busan before.” Jongup said. His knees were bent, and he was resting his elbows against them.

 

Himchan glanced at him, “I have. A couple times. Yongguk and I came once, when we were on leave during our service. Just for a weekend away with his brother.”

 

“You two seem close.” Jongup observed, and glanced to where Himchan's phone was sitting on the floor, and his fingertips drummed that same rhythm into it they always did.

 

“We have history. More history than most.”

 

Jongup nodded his head and turned back again to gaze out the window. From where he sat, he couldn't see any buildings or street lights, just the blur of electric blue and indigo as the sun and moon passed one another on the horizon, and ocean winds cleared the sky. Small flurries of black birds were swooping as they returned from their winter migrations, not spurred from flight by the coming darkness of night. With the window closed, Jongup couldn't hear them calling, but he watched with fascination as they spun and twirled in pairs flying side by side heading north towards the mountains, and the forests along the border, maybe some even destined as far as China, or Siberia.

 

“What are they?” Himchan asked.

 

“Rooks again.” Jongup provided, “Coming home.”

 

“How do you know so much about them?”

 

“A family roosted in a tree behind my house every spring when I was a kid. They mate for life, and they always came back to renovate their old nests and use them again.” He smiled, “I always loved watching them from my window, at the end of winter I used to stare out at the sky for hours in the hopes of seeing one coming back.”

 

Himchan chuckled at the thought. The Jongup he knew seemed a far cry from a dreamy child and it felt weirdly intimate to see Jongup watching the birds so longingly.

 

“You're from just outside of Seoul, right?”

 

Jongup nodded his head again and smiled slightly, “Near where the body was found. Our house was down not far from the river, near where the old army base is.”

 

“I went there a few times during my service. It's beautiful, still wild and untouched compared to the city around it.” Himchan commented and Jongup's smile grew more convincing.

 

“It is. My dad worked on the base. He wasn't in the army, but he was contracted to do jobs around there, on the buildings and stuff like that. I was terrified of it as a kid, with the big walls and fences and guards out the front.” The memory made him laugh softly, just under his breath, “My brothers both thought it was really cool, but I hated it.”

 

“I was scared of it too, the first time I went there.” Himchan agreed. Under his fingers, his phone vibrated and he turned to look down at it. There was a text message from Yongguk, requesting a status update.

 

“Any news?” Jongup asked.

 

“No. Bbang's just asking for an update, in case anything's changed.” Himchan typed out a reply quickly, then dropped his phone back down onto the floor. Jongup was still gazing out the window, though he shifted to stretch his legs out across the floor in front of himself, “Do you need to call anyone? Partner, friend, someone who'd be used to hearing from you more frequently.”

 

“I don't have a partner, and my parents are used to me being busy with work.” Jongup turned his head so his ear was pressed against the threadbare duvet, where he could see Himchan's profile. His nose had an elegant curve, and his lashes were straight and barely visible in the dark, but he already knew there was something about them he liked.

 

“What about that guy? The one outside the bar whose calls you weren't answering.” Himchan chuckled and gently jabbed Jongup in the ribs. He'd hoped that awkward meeting had been forgotten.

 

“Ha Jooho.” Jongup's nose wrinkled and he shook his head, “We were at University together, and we dated briefly. Very briefly. We were both... Interested in different things.”

 

“Oh?” Himchan turned towards Jongup with twitching lips and a twinkle in his eye, “And what was it you were interested in?”

 

“Not wasting my time.” Jongup replied dryly, and Himchan couldn't help but laugh. His head tipped back and his Adam's Apple bobbed up and down, it was mesmerising in its own way.

 

“What about you?” He asked, before his mind could wander, “Anyone waiting for you at home?”

 

Himchan's mirth faded and he shook his head, “No, no one.”

 

“Too busy?”

 

Himchan wrinkled his nose, and his fingers started drumming, “No, time isn't an issue. Time can always be found, it's the lying I can't take.” Again, his head turned and finally they looked at one another without either turning away, “Telling him I'm going on a business trip when I'm really sitting in a basement somewhere under Seoul, having a family in work colleagues that he can never meet, pre-planning stories in the car on the way home each evening to tell him when he asks about my day.” He rubbed a hand over his face, “I can't stomach the lying. We have to do enough of that anyway.”

 

“Why not meet someone in the business then?” Jongup suggested.

 

“It could never work, not in the world we're in.”

 

“It works for Yongguk and Junhong.”

 

Himchan turned away and leant back while his arms looped loosely around his knees. He was craving a cigarette, but cold and danger kept him indoors, and so the craving itched away just below his skin, “It doesn't work for them. They're not together, they never have been. Of course, they're entirely smitten, and everyone can see it, but neither of them will ever admit to feeling some kind of way about each other. They'll just continue to have sex and stay with one another until one of them thinks they've gotten too close, then it's a sudden retreat and a couple weeks of awkward silence until they're right back at the start again.”

 

“I didn't realise.” Though it made sense, Jongup knew. You couldn't always get too attached in their line of work.

 

“Bbang is fuelled by a false sense of chivalry, Jun seems to have convinced himself he's not in love, and together it makes one hell of a pain in the ass.” Himchan offered Jongup a half smile, “I keep thinking they're going to need to figure something out eventually, but it's been two years, so I guess we will have to see when 'eventually' comes.”

 

“Maybe the lying would be easier than that.” Jongup joked, maybe in bad taste, but Himchan barked a short laugh and shrugged one shoulder.

 

“Lying to yourself, lying to someone else, you're still lying.”

 

“What do your parents think you do?” Jongup tried to steer the conversation away.

 

“They think I'm still in the military. It's easier that way, they don't ask questions since they know I can't answer them.”

 

“We're in the industry of secrets.”

 

“What do yours think?” He was watching Jongup, assessing his expression, and Jongup tried not to squirm under the scrutiny.

 

“They think I'm practicing law, at a firm in Seoul. I don't see them much, my brothers either. The lying is easier if I don't see them.” His throat tightened, he didn't expect that, and so he dropped his gaze down to where his hands were resting comfortably in his lap. There was a loose thread at the hem of his jeans, and he picked at it absently.

 

“I don't see mine much, either.” Himchan provided for... Solidarity, Jongup guessed. He turned his head and glanced towards the detective, and for a moment he could see conflict across his expression until a sentence crawled its way out, as though fighting to swim upstream against determination to keep it down, “I had a sister who died. I haven't seen my parents much since then.”

 

For a moment, Jongup just let the words sit there, out in the open. The sky had cleared of rooks by then, and the sun had set entirely, and while fog horns echoed from out at sea the pair of them sat in silence. It was comfortable, in a way neither had anticipated, and Himchan appreciated the way Jongup didn't leap into apologies and blabbed professions of sympathy. He just let it be, and it just was.

 

Five minutes passed by the time Jongup spoke again. He turned to lean with his side against the bed frame and his elbow against the mattress to support his head against his closed fist.

 

“What happened?” He asked.

 

“She disappeared during the last few days of my service. Yongguk and I were sent on an... Assignment, into the mountains with a few others, so I didn't know that she was missing and by the time I made it back to the base her body had already been found. She was strangled and dumped in the river, it was the police who ended up finding her.” The rhythm again was tapped against his knee, it picked up pace as he spoke. Jongup didn't press for more, he knew Himchan would only tell him what he wanted to.

 

“Her ex-fiance was immediately a suspect, she'd broken things off not long before and he hadn't taken it very well. The Police went for him, and found evidence in her place that he'd been there and her hair was in the boot of his car, but the uniform at the scene had mishandled it, and everything was deemed inadmissible so they had to let him go.” The rhythm stopped, and instead his fingers twisted together until his knuckles went white. Jongup looked at them for a long moment, seeing how his nails were biting into his skin, and how he was tangling himself up inside.

 

“Where is he now?” Jongup asked and Himchan turned to look at him.

 

“He's in prison.” He said, then chuckled breathily, “I obsessed over the case to the point where I was making myself insane. I pulled strings I shouldn't've and ended up getting the evidence from her case into the Unit's new lab right after our HQ was built, just so I could make myself more crazy. Yongguk came back one day, in the early days when it was just me and him, with some weedy Canadian kid in tow. I had no idea what he could know about forensics, but he spent four hours in that lab and he found everything we needed to prosecute. He was so good that the jury only took two hours to deliberate.”

 

It had to be like torture, to experience something like that, Jongup thought. A whole relationship and memory shrouded in tragedy. Himchan was blinking slowly, and his eyes were dry, he'd thought her death over so many times by then that he didn't even know if he could cry about it anymore.

 

“What was she like?”

 

The question caught him off guard, and for a moment he had to hesitate. People didn't usually ask that. They apologised, offered sympathy and well wishes. Some promised him she was in heaven, others that her Karma must have been good. He didn't really care about that, though. She was dead in the ground either way.

 

“She was annoying, know-it-all, brilliant. Honestly the smartest person I've ever known, way smarter than me. I've always thought she'd probably be better off doing this kinda stuff than I am, because with all her genius and brilliance she was kind, gentle and generous. Working with people and _helping_ people was her greatest talent.” His lips twitched into a warm smile, “God knows she had my back a thousand times.”

 

When Himchan managed a laugh, Jongup matched it with one of his own. It felt right, to see this Himchan, instead of the grim and severe man he'd worked with over the last few days.

 

“Once when I was still in school I wanted to sneak out to meet my friends in the park and I got caught like an idiot. She came in and came to my rescue by claiming that _she_ had dared me to do it, and that I was sneaking out on an errand to buy snacks for her.” He shook his head, “And our parents bought it! Neither her or I could _believe_ it. She always told me that I'd get myself in trouble if she wasn't there to keep an eye out for me.” This time, when he laughed, he tilted over to the side and a sharp pang shot through him making him wince and hiss in pain.

 

Automatically Jongup shifted forward and brushed his hand over where he knew the injury lay just below Himchan's old t-shirt and when Himchan turned his head to look at him, he thought for the first time that maybe trouble was exactly where he was.

 

“She sounds like an amazing woman.” Jongup smiled, even as he lifted up the hem of Himchan's shirt to peer at the bandage covering his torn skin, “I wish I could have met her.”

 

Outside a car drove past and they both went completely still until the humming engine faded entirely. It was a sobering reminder of the world beyond those four walls, and Himchan wished he could forget it was there. Jongup's eyes were soft, his hands gentle, and the way his lips tugged into a smile was so intoxicating that Himchan thought right then he couldn't possibly need anything more than just that.

 

“I should re-dress your injury.” Jongup said, but Himchan ignored it to catch him gently under the chin.

 

“You don't need to... Not right now.” Something pleaded in his voice that he didn't expect, and when Jongup looked up, their gazes held.

 

“When?” He asked.

 

“Tomorrow. For tonight, lets stay just like this.”

 

There was something so terribly isolating about the lives they lived, Jongup knew. Their existence was framed by lies and bound by risk, and they were left alone and searching for a family in those people they shared a common world with, but that yearning for something real always itched like a craving just below the surface of his skin.

 

That was why, when Himchan let go of his chin, he chased him, and drew him in and the kiss tasted both bitter and sweet, like nicotine and vanilla and the promise of spring just over the horizon. But there was something warm about it, too, and safe. Right in a funny kind of way.

 

Himchan didn't hesitate before he was winding his arm to wrap around Jongup's shoulders and it wasn't even a moment after that Jongup was doing the same and though neither voiced it aloud, they both thought that maybe for just one night, they could lie to themselves.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooft less than two weeks this is a new record. Thank you always to Laura for listening to me, supporting me and always keeping my sane x


	11. Chapter 11

When Yongguk's eyes opened, he wasn't sure where he was. The roof was white, the walls white the floor white below the red, orange, green and yellow rag rug spread across it. His neck was stiff and his back ached, and at thirty-one years, he didn't think he'd ever felt this old. One turn of his head to the right had him looking through a glass wall towards the Unit's empty morgue, and finally he remembered the night before, when he'd come down into the lab below their HQ in the hopes of convincing Junhong to _go home_ and get some rest like a normal person. It didn't exactly go how he'd planned, but then again neither did anything when one Canadian Doctor was involved.

 

He still remembered the day they'd met, like he could ever forget _that._ He'd been convinced to attend an international Policing and Security conference in Tokyo alongside the police commissioner and a handful of representatives in black coats he assumed were NIS, and he'd never felt so in over his head in his life. The Unit was still new, and it had been made clear to him early on that he had been chosen as a prospective leader, and that had been his first taste of bureaucracy. The whole thing was endless. There were talks, stalls selling products to assist in espionage like it was some kind of kids gaming convention, but in place of trading cards and fan paraphernalia it was tiny weapons concealed in pens, and cameras the size of needle points. The whole thing felt more wrong than he could have possibly imagined, and while the commissioner and some of her men in black went outside to inspect the newest models of covert weaponry, he wandered the halls and waded through the crowds on his own, hoping to find a familiar face.

 

He'd been half-heartedly admiring a selection of surveillance tools when someone said, _“Ah, Bang. Just the man I was looking for.”_

 

When Yongguk looked up, one of the Commissioner's people, Jin Shinyoung, was approaching with three men at her side. Two of them were older, one bald the other desperately clinging on to what hair remained, and both dressed impeccably in grey suits. Yongguk first guessed they were American, but there was something about the way they stood with straight spines, and frown lines around their mouths that really made them look uniquely British. It was the third man who caught his attention, though. He was much younger, not any older than nineteen or twenty, and he stood between the other two, towering over them all, and while he seemed to be dressed in a similarly stitched up suit, he looked relaxed without a tie, and the first few buttons of his shirt undone. Black hair was falling into his dark eyes, and while the two elder men held their hands out for Yongguk to shake, he looked disinterestedly around the room like he didn't want to be there at all. Yongguk could relate.

 

Shinyoung gestured to the men she stood with, and announced in perfect English, _“May I introduce you to Doctor John Stephenson and Doctor William Cooper of MI6.”_

 

“ _It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Bang. We have heard a lot about you from the Commissioner.”_ The bald man said, Yongguk wasn't sure if he was Stephenson or Cooper, but nor did he really care that much.

 

“ _The pleasure is mine.”_ He replied, hoping his accent wasn't too strong.

 

Almost-bald shook Yongguk's hand a moment later, then gestured behind him at the third man, _“Can we introduce you to our student, Doctor Jamie Wilson-Choi.”_

 

The younger finally turned and looked at Yongguk again, his lips pressing together before they spread wide into a smile over straight teeth, and two deep dimples dented into his cheeks, _“It's nice to meet you.”_ He greeted, his accent was thick and Canadian, and his hand was warm and firm in Yongguk's own.

 

“ _It's nice to meet you, too.”_

 

They'd met again at the event dinner that evening. The room was ablaze with conversation as people from agencies all across the globe carried on meaningless stories about nothing as though this was a friendly work function, not a smörgåsbord of spies. Yongguk hated networking, and he was deep in thought about how it should have been Himchan there instead of him when someone dropped down into the empty seat to his right and commented in perfect Korean, _“You make them nervous.”_

 

He lowered his chopsticks and turned his head to see Jamie Wilson-Choi curiously looking down at the food on his plate, then glancing up to gesture with his eyes towards Stephenson and Cooper deep in conversation opposite them. Their brows were furrowed and heads bowed as they murmured between themselves, clearly not wanting to be heard.

 

“ _Why?”_ Yongguk asked.

 

The doctor tipped his head and hummed, then took a moment to eat a mouthful of the food as he considered his response.

 

“ _MI6 is a powerful agency. They're used to having their fingers in every pie, and knowing everything that's going on, but there have been whispers all around this place that South Korea is planning another agency. Then there's you: obviously not NIS from the way you dress, but not one of Madame Commissioner's helpers, either, or else you'd be hovering around her like the rest of them.”_ He glanced down the table to where the Commissioner sat mid discussion with a Russian representative, NIS agents in their black suits stationed around her and Jin Shinyoung at her right hand. Dr. Wilson-Choi shrugged and sent Yongguk a grin, _“So if you're not NIS, nor one of the Commissioner's cronies, you're representing something else, and not knowing what makes them nervous.”_

 

Yongguk nodded and took a hold of his drink to take a long sip so he could consider this before replying. When he glanced across the table, Cooper (or maybe Stephenson- who knows) was looking at him, but averted his gaze as soon as they met eyes.

 

His lips quirked into a half smile, _“And how about you?”_ He asked with a sidelong glance towards the Canadian, _“How do you feel, Doctor Wilson-Choi?”_

 

Wilson-Choi met his challenge with a boyish grin, _“Interested.”_ He replied, then offered out his hand to reintroduce himself, _“I prefer Junhong over Jamie these days.”_

 

“ _Junhong.”_ Yongguk smiled back and shook his hand again, _“So tell me... How would you feel about visiting Korea?”_

 

Yongguk rubbed a hand down his face and pushed himself up from the couch, then stretched his arms up and over his head with a low groan. The labs were cold, they always were, and the goosebumps rising across his chest and back were enough to send him searching for where he'd left his shirt the night before. He spied it laying across Junhong's chair and pulled it on over the sweatpants he kept in his locker for nights just like that, then turned again towards the door that separated the office from the lab beyond. Usually, Junhong kept the door between them open, but that morning it was closed and Yongguk gazed for a long moment through the glass panel to where their Doctor sat leaning over a tub of burnt out car bits with his broken right arm held tight against his chest in its sling, and his clumsy left trying to make up for it. He'd come a long way from the cheeky boy Yongguk had met in Tokyo too many years before, and when he looked at their Junnie now, he wondered if MI6's Dr. Jamie Wilson-Choi still existed.

 

Yongguk didn't bother finishing getting dressed beyond tugging on his shoes before he was pulling open the door and moving to lean against its frame, “How do you sleep on that couch?” He asked while rubbing at the back of his neck.

 

Junhong didn't look up as he sorted between the tubs, searching for something, “It wasn't made for two people.”

 

“It wasn't made for one.” Yongguk could hear the almost-chastising tone in his voice.

 

Finally, Junhong turned his head and glanced up at him with a faint smile on his lips and the softness of his expression had Yongguk lurching forward and coming closer. He looked freshly showered, he was wearing different clothes from what he'd slept in, and his hair was still damp and fluffy from being washed and rubbed dry and once Yongguk was standing behind him, he could smell the faint aroma of fruit and sugar.

 

“You smell like my shampoo.” He said softly as he leant down and nudged the crown of his head with the tip of his nose.

 

“I ran outta mine.” The Doctor replied absently, his eyes were still focused on the tubs in front of him as his left hand sorted through until in a force of movement, he pushed them away and growled out his frustration.

 

Yongguk pulled back slightly, though didn't pull his hand from Junhong's shoulder. It was because he wanted it to be a comfort to Junhong, and he didn't pause to think about how it was a comfort to him.

 

“Something is bothering you.” He simply prompted.

 

“Of course something is bothering me!” Junhong bit, “My fucking arm is _useless_ and I have tub after tub of _nothing!_ What the hell am I supposed to find from loose bits of burnt plastic, I need to go through the car, I need to look over every inch but getting this shit bit by bit is _pointless!”_

 

The director looked down over Junhong's shoulder. It had been less than two days since his arm had been broken, and it had to be causing a great lot of pain, but he'd refused any medication for it. _It disrupts my concentration_ he'd said. Yongguk had tried to argue that so would monumental amounts of _pain_ but the doctor always knew best. He sighed and gently started to rub his thumb along the spot right where Junhong's neck and shoulders met, feeling the tension in the muscle there.

 

“I wish you'd let me take you home so you could rest.” He tried, but any progress he'd made in relaxing Junhong was reversed when he felt him seize up all over again under his hands.

 

“I can't do this, Hyung.” He paused, and Yongguk waited. There'd been a time when such a sentence would make his chest tighten and his throat hurt, but he'd learnt a lot since then. About himself, and about Junhong, and about the chasm between them neither was willing to cross, “This lab, this place, it's brilliant, but this kind of evidence... A whole _car._ I need a bigger space, I need people to help me look. There was something _in there_ or else they wouldn't have blown it up, and I need to find what it was they were so desperate to destroy.”

 

He knew their headquarters, in all of its brilliance, could never be perfect and he paused to allow his thoughts to take the road they needed. He knew what he had to do, the thing was, he wasn't entirely sure he could do it. Instead of saying that out loud, however, he dipped his head to press his lips to the top of Junhong's head, “I'll see what I can do.”

 

*

 

The third day in Busan was spent examining more files and extra documents. They'd come through from Youngjae long past midnight, when he was still working, and Himchan and Jongup were fast asleep, and when none of the agents based in the Unit's Seoul headquarters had heard from them before midday, they called. Jongup slept through the first three, but the fourth disturbed him enough that he pressed his face down deeper into his pillow with a low groan. An arm was wrapped loosely around his middle, and one of Himchan's legs had slipped between his during the night, and when Jongup shifted to reach out for his phone, he held on tighter.

 

“No...” Himchan groaned, trying to pull him in closer to his chest and stop him from moving. Jongup couldn't help but smile, and he resisted the sound for a moment.

 

“They'll panic if we don't answer.” He reminded Himchan, whose nose was pressing into his back just below his shoulder blade while his palm pressed flat against his chest to keep him in place.

 

“Warm.” Was Himchan's entire argument.

 

Unfortunately, it wasn't quite enough, and through his persistent protests, Jongup managed to slip free from his hold and rise naked from bed. The carpet felt scratchy under his feet, and Jongup itched along the expanse of his chest as he assured Daehyun they'd just overslept. They'd been working late into the night, he lied, and they'd needed their rest. He figured there were some revelations they could keep to themselves.

 

The call ended with a promise to look at the files, and then Jongup tossed the phone aside so he could peek through the curtains down at the street, and pretend he didn't know Himchan was watching him.

 

“Overslept.” He said, amused, and Jongup glanced over his shoulder.

 

“Well we did, didn't we?” He grabbed his boxers from where he'd left them on the lid of his laptop, and pulled them on.

 

“Among other things.” Himchan grinned and pushed himself up to sit, though winced at the stretch to his side. It was tender, and the bruising ached when he moved, “Why did you let me exert myself?”

 

“You didn't seem to mind last night” Jongup quirked a brow.

 

“Well I was distracted.” Himchan replied.

 

They both got up and showered, and while Jongup started sorting through the documents Youngjae had sent, Himchan stepped out of the room for a cigarette and a search through the building's vending machines in the hopes there would be something that resembled a meal. He discovered another one in the hall downstairs and triumphantly returned with a variety of dried ramen they ate together on the bed using the room's ancient kettle and water from the shower head. It wasn't exactly the most conventional morning after Jongup had experienced, but he had to admit, it was one of the better ones.

 

Most of the documents were about members of Lee Taejin's notorious Golden Lotus that Youngjae had found in prison records from the nineties, the rest covered murders, monkshood and cyanide. Jongup was midway through a graphic post-mortem report from 1997 when Himchan set aside the laptop he'd been reading on and leant back against the headboard. He'd been seated on the bed since that morning, while Jongup went from sitting beside him, to standing by the window, then eventually ended up where he was now laying half across the foot of the bed with his feet firmly planted on the floor.

 

“You never told me about your brothers.” Himchan said.

 

Jongup lowered his laptop and turned towards him, “What about them?” He asked.

 

“I saw the photo of the three of you in your book case. You look alike.” Himchan yawned and covered his mouth with one hand, while the other closed his computer lid. Jongup realised then they'd been working without a break for more than seven hours, between the curtains he could see that it was starting to get dark.

 

“People say that, I can't see it much. Jongho is the eldest, he's thirty in June, and Jonghwan is almost twenty-eight. Jongho-hyung started working at a high school last September, near where we grew up, Jonghwan is in a restaurant. He started as just an assistant, but he's probably getting close to being a chef now.” He hated that he didn't know, but it had been a long time since he convinced himself it was too late to ask.

 

“They're a lot older than you.”

 

“Mm.” Jongup laughed and tucked a hand under his head, “My parents used to say I was their _happy surprise._ ”

 

“Happy surprise. I like that.” Himchan laughed and closed his eyes. He guessed he didn't see Jongup as much different from that himself.

 

A thought occurred to Jongup and he pushed himself up to sit. For a beat, he just looked at Himchan, then he said “I never asked you your sister's name.”

 

The guilt in his voice made Himchan smile. It was small, just a tug at the corner of his lips, but it was there, “Kim Yejin.”

 

“Yejin.” Jongup repeated with a smile, knowing he would remember that. He could hear the way Himchan's voice brightened when he said her name, and he figured he'd be encouraging him to do that more often.

 

Himchan folded his hands over his lap and blinked open his eyes, Jongup asked, “Is she why you joined the Unit?”

 

“No.” He replied immediately, then hesitated and corrected, “Kind of. I refused to join, Yongguk talked me around. I guess it was for both of them.”

 

“It must have been difficult to watch the police let the culprit get away.” Jongup noted. He was staring up at the roof, at where cracks were forming in the white paint and small bits were starting to flake away. If he squinted, it looked like sheets of ice spread out over water, showing their fragility in the early spring sun and fragmenting into floating platforms waiting to be washed out to sea.

 

Himchan didn't reply. Instead, he shifted over the mattress to lay down on his back beside Jongup with their shoulders touching and looked up. Yellow stains were spreading along the skirting board where the walls and roof met, probably from some rain that managed to seep its way through cracks and crevices sometime during the autumn.

 

“She'd have liked you.” He said eventually.

 

“Why's that?” Jongup asked and turned his head. Himchan blinked slowly, his eyes unwavering as he stared up at the roof and Jongup started to count his eyelashes as they fluttered open and closed, open and closed.

 

“I don't know.” Himchan admitted, then turned his head to look back at Jongup, “I just think she would've.”

 

It was the first time Jongup had the chance to see Himchan properly close up, and he found himself taking in the sight of him bit by bit and he liked the opportunity to just look. The first day he'd met Himchan, he remembered seeing him smile and noting how natural it looked on his face, but now he could see the way lines were forming around his mouth from years of frowning, and how three little creases fit between his brows that deepened when he furrowed them together. Jongup lifted a hand and gently pressed the pad of his thumb between his eyebrows to smooth the creases out.

 

“They'll stick.” He said, in not much more than a whisper.

 

“I think they already have,” Himchan replied. He was smiling, and Jongup agreed with himself again because it was true, there wasn't anyone else who suited a smile quite like Kim Himchan.

 

He ran his thumb from Himchan's forehead over one of his eyebrows and smoothed down the hairs, then pulled back altogether but then instead it was Himchan's turn. Once Jongup's hand had returned to his side, Himchan's own lifted and his palm brushed slowly over the angle of Jongup's cheekbone, then down along his jaw until he was gently drawing him in closer. Their noses touched once, then twice, then a third time, until Himchan tipped his head and their lips brushed. Jongup closed his eyes and just let the warmth wash over him, waiting patiently for lips to touch his as Himchan took his time.

 

Instead, he got a ringtone and both of them jolted from the intimacy of their moment. Himchan hesitated, and Jongup thought for a second he was going to let it ring out, but he pulled back to sit and grabbed the phone from beside his laptop to answer.

 

“What is it?” He said and rubbed a hand down over his face.

 

“ _Hey it's Dae.”_ Daehyun's cheerful voice filled the receiver, _“You been going over the documents Youngjae found?”_

 

“Yeah.” Himchan replied. He poked half heartedly through the file Sun's people had given them two days before, “You? How are you going?”

 

“ _We're all doing well. Actually, we think we've found something.”_

 

Himchan looked up, and Jongup met his eyes, “Go on.”

 

It was a warehouse, in a shipping yard not far at all from where Himchan and Jongup were holed up in their hotel room. Youngjae had been the one to find it, of course. Someone had off handedly mentioned it in a Police interview two decades before, and with a brief search through property indexes, he discovered it hadn't been sold since it was bought in the eighties by Golden Lotus.

 

The phone call ended with Himchan agreeing that they would go and check it out, and reluctantly both stood to dress for the cold winds coming down from the mountains north of Busan, and hoped that the snow and rain wouldn't be back just yet.

 

While Himchan was winding his scarf around his neck, Jongup picked up a torch he'd left on the floor the night before while he'd been searching through his bag for a condom. He'd pulled out his first aid kit, then the torch and set them both aside, next he grabbed a sweater and a knife and Himchan chuckled from where he'd been laying back on the bed, propped up on his elbows.

 

“What don't you have in that bag?” He asked, amused.

 

Jongup had rolled his eyes with the square foil package in hand and didn't bother answering. Instead, he slipped from his boxers and Himchan caught him in his arms, and then they didn't have any need to do much talking.

 

“Ready?” Himchan asked from by the door and Jongup pocketed the torch.

 

“Ready.” He confirmed.

 

They exited through the hotel's back door and turned left, then right, then left again to wind their way through the tangle of streets between them and the water. At every corner, Himchan would peer around it, just to make sure the route was clear, while Jongup searched through the darkness behind them for surety that they weren't being followed until they slipped through a hole cut into the four metre tall chain link fence that marked the perimeter of the yard.

 

“What are we going to do if this place is full of Golden Lotus thugs?” Jongup asked as they strode across vacant lots between a graveyard of empty containers to the dark mass of the warehouse.

 

“We _sneak._ ” Himchan replied with a lopsided grin.

 

Surprisingly, getting in was the easy part. The first door they tried was locked, but after fiddling with three of the nearby windows, one jolted out and Jongup managed to pry it open just enough for them both to climb through. He went in first, then Himchan followed, and soon they were standing side by side in the almost-black of the dark warehouse.

 

“It doesn't sound like anyone's here.” Himchan noted softly, as they came up to their fourth doorway but he still pressed his back to the frame and peered around the corner to confirm he was right. The first few rooms were small, probably offices, some with furniture stacked up and decaying in the corner, others entirely empty, but each one brought them further and further into the building.

 

“It doesn't look like anyone's been here for a while.” Jongup agreed and followed him through to the next room. The floor was dusty, and when Jongup tried a light switch on the wall, the bulbs flickered and flashed, then died again. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the torch, but even with the stream of yellow light, not much could be said about the building. White paint was peeling off the old walls and crumbling onto the ground below, and the windows built high up near the ceiling were so caked with dust and grime it was impossible to see through them.

 

A pile of broken chairs was stacked in the middle of the room, and Himchan approached to nudge at them with his foot while Jongup moved to peer through the next doorway. He flashed his torch around, then quirked an eyebrow as it illuminated a neatly stacked pile of wooden boxes, much like the ones they'd seen being carried off the boat near _The Rook_ two nights before.

 

“Hyung, over here.” He called and Himchan looked up.

 

“ _Hyung_ , huh?” He asked as he came closer and Jongup rolled his eyes.

 

“Unless you'd rather I call you _Agent._ ” He said.

 

Himchan chuckled low, and brushed his hands along Jongup's hips as he stepped past him and into the next room, “Hyung is fine, _baby._ ”

 

Something pulled at Jongup's lips as he followed as Himchan started trying the lids. The first three boxes were empty, and the rest were sealed with heavy screws, and Himchan sailed a hard kick into the side of one to vent out his frustration.

 

“Hyung, look.” Jongup said, while swiping a hand over the top, "There's no dust on these. They've been placed here recently.”

 

“Help me find something to pry the lids off.” Himchan replied. Jongup put the torch down on top of the boxes to illuminate the room in dim light as they moved to the perimeters to search through the piles of broken furniture left there to rot. Himchan picked up the old leg of a table, but when he tested its strength between his hands, the wood snapped and crumbled from the damp that had seeped deep into its grain and so he tossed it aside. On the other side of the room, Jongup was sifting through an array of metal bars constructed to cover up glass windows, trying to find one loose enough to be implemented as a crow bar when the light of their torch flickered then went out and they were both plunged into darkness.

 

Jongup groaned. “You okay?” Himchan asked.

 

“Yeah, but I can't see shit.” Jongup's eyes searched blindly in the hopes of catching movement.

 

“Neither but-” Himchan paused, there was a shuffling sound coming from not far away and both men went completely still, “Did you hear that?”

 

Jongup swallowed, but just as he was about to reply, he felt the nozzle of a gun press into the small of his back, and a voice said low right in his ear, “Hands where I can see them.”

 

Calmly, Jongup lifted his arms into the air either side of his head, “Himchan.” He warned sharply until he heard another voice from across the room grunt.

 

“Don't move.”

 

“Ah.” Himchan said, in a voice way too calm for the gravity of their current situation, “Looks like this is a trap.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those unfamiliar- the NIS (National Intelligence Agency) is South Korea's secret service, and MI6 is the UK's international secret service (Think like ASIS for my fellow Australians, or the CIA for Americans, the UK also has MI5 which is their domestic intelligence service, think ASIO in Australia/FBI in America.)
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! If you have any thoughts/feelings I would absolutely love to know them, and thank you as always to [Laura whose fics everyone needs to read x ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonyeyedwalrus/pseuds/Moonyeyedwalrus)
> 
> ***ALSO important PSA: Always use a condom. The best kind of sex is safe sex.


	12. Chapter 12

For a long moment, everything was very still. The press of the gun's nozzle into the centre of Jongup's back didn't falter, nor did his arms in the air so in the absence of light he chose instead to listen to the rhythm of all four of them breathing. Himchan's was slow and steady, while the man standing beside him was wheezing audibly. The third man, the one behind Jongup, was breathing so silently that Jongup decided he had to be the one in charge, or at least, the one in better control of himself. _Good_ , he thought. He could work with that. Though the gun was unmoving, his hold seemed relaxed and comfortable, the kind of hold that someone who was not amateur with a firearm had and Jongup knew he couldn't make a move unless there was a distraction.

 

And a distraction is what Himchan provided.

 

It started with the soft shuffle of one foot over the dusty floor, then in a fluid movement Himchan twisted his body and flipped his assailant over his hip and sent him crashing to the warehouse floor with a grunt. In the fraction of a second following that first heavy thud, Jongup heard In-Charge's breath hitch in his ear, and took the moment of his distraction to duck away and sail a hard kick into the hands still holding on to his weapon, sending it flying from his grip and skidding across the floor and hitting a wall somewhere off to their left.

 

In-Charge cursed low and swung out his right arm, and in the dark Jongup didn't see it coming until a clenched fist was colliding hard with the side of his head, and he stumbled back until his legs met the boxes stacked in the centre of the room. His ears were ringing, and he clenched his eyes shut in the hopes the sound would fade. Not far behind him, Wheezer had made his way back up to his feet and Himchan was stumbling away from his swinging arms. He cursed under his breath as a fist collided with his stomach, aggravating the bruises already spread across his skin and he swung his right arm to hit the other directly in the eye. This time, though, Wheezer didn't stumble back and with his right hand secure around his gun, he brought it down hard onto the crown of Himchan's head and he went down with a thud.

 

“Hyung?” Jongup called out, his head turning blindly around as more feet came towards them running, but Himchan didn't answer and three sets of hands grabbed at Jongup's arms, then a bag was pulled over his head.

 

It was stupid. _This_ was stupid. Jongup had training, he'd been pulled through the ringer to develop his skills, and he knew better than to get distracted by something so trivial as _flirtation_. They should have searched the area more efficiently, they should have been quieter, and his eyes should have stayed up and alert, not chasing Himchan's movements in the hopes of catching his smile. Now as a result his hands were being secured behind his back with zip ties.

 

“You alright?” In-Charge asked and Wheezer grunted. Lights were flickering on, and Jongup could just make out the shadowy outlines of people through the mesh fabric of the bag.

 

“The fucker punched me.” More people were coming into the room, and Jongup tried to keep track of just how many. At first, he thought four, then he changed his mind to ten, but he was distracted when the heavy weight of Himchan's body was hauled up and propped against his back. He twitched his fingers, he could feel Himchan's where his hands were tied behind his back, too, but the man didn't move in response. He was unconscious, or at least Jongup _hoped_ he was only unconscious.

 

“What have we got?” Came a woman's voice to the right. It was strong, full of authority and Jongup could have sworn that he'd heard it before, but the ringing in his ears was making him dizzy and he couldn't focus enough to pinpoint _where._

 

“Two hostiles ma'am. Trying to get into the boxes.” In-Charge (who maybe wasn't as In Charge as initially thought) said.

 

“Search them.” Ma'am replied and hands were coming down onto Jongup again, feeling through the inside of his coat and along the legs of his jeans to his ankles, anywhere he might have concealed a weapon. When he felt his ID card and wallet pulled from the inside pocket of his overcoat, his teeth pressed down together. They'd see they were cops, and in turn they would definitely be taken to Lee.

 

“Ma'am.” Wheezer said, “I found this in the mouthy one's pocket.”

 

“This one's got one, too.” Not-So-In-Charge added.

 

Footsteps, then silence as Ma'am flipped open their identification cards and stared down at them for a long moment. She tilted them into the light and pursed her lips, then held both for someone else to take.

 

“They're fake.” She said easily and Jongup's stomach dropped, “Load them into the truck. These two are coming with us.”

 

“Where to, Ma'am?” Wheezer asked, as he picked up his gun from the floor and pulled back the slide to ensure a bullet was loaded into the chamber.

 

“To have a chat with the boss.”

 

Through the ringing in his ears, and the sensation of Himchan's limp body leaning up against his, Jongup had one clear thought: _Shit._

 

*

 

Daehyun was starting to think it was statistically probable that he was going mad. It sounded pessimistic, or like an over response to the rational pressures of a job, but with every document saying the same thing, and every photo of the same crime scenes, he felt as though he was going round and round in circles and frankly it was making him dizzy. Golden Lotus were importing something, nobody knew what, there were ex-members in prison, but they wouldn't talk, Lee Taejin was an asshole, but there was no evidence that indicated he murdered his girlfriend other than the aforementioned point that he was an asshole. Nor was there evidence, for that matter, that Song Ahra herself knew anything of Golden Lotus, or its operations, all that was known was that she was dead, and that her boyfriend was a criminal involved with Golden Lotus, and then Daehyun went back to the beginning to start the circle again.

 

Across the bank of desks, Youngjae's eyes were focused on his own computer. He'd been quiet that day, and maybe Daehyun wouldn't have noticed his anxiety if it weren't for the way he'd fit his fingernails between his teeth and bit them down, down and even further down until they were red and raw and jagged. Himchan was always so good at stopping him from doing that, but he wasn't there, and Daehyun didn't have any shame in admitting that he missed him.

 

When their phone call had ended, Daehyun managed to hack into the shipping yard's security system, and blown it up onto the television screens mounted up on the wall and though he had seen them find their way in, he was yet to witness them re-emerging. The southern end of the warehouse was in a blind spot, and no matter how many cameras Daehyun had cycled through, he couldn't find one that got a clear view of it, so he resigned himself to staring at the impeded view he could secure and willing his own anxieties away. He hadn't been so convinced that going in unarmed had been such a good idea, but Himchan wasn't one for taking suggestions when he was determined. Maybe that was also a contributing factor to the madness he was descending towards.

 

“Your finger is bleeding.” He noticed, while watching Youngjae rip at his nails once again.

 

The psychologist blinked and looked down, he hadn't realised, “It is.” He replied with genuine surprise.

 

“You alright?” Daehyun managed to push himself up to stand and stretched his arms over his head while rounding the table to look at the security footage again. No movement, though a light had flickered on deep inside the building.

 

“Yeah, fine just... Frustrated.” Youngjae sighed and offered Daehyun a weak smile, “Junnie was going to start re-testing her clothes again today. I was thinking I might head down and see if he needs a hand.”

 

Daehyun glanced at the clock, it was nearly ten and he nodded. He wanted to tell Youngjae to _go home_ but he knew his friend was just as worried about Himchan and Jongup as he was, so he settled with saying: “Alright. I'll stay up here, and keep an eye on the footage.”

 

“How long have they been in there now?” Youngjae frowned.

 

“Just over an hour.”

 

“And they'll call once they're out?” Youngjae sounded hopeful, and Daehyun cracked as reassuring of a smile as he could muster.

 

“That's the plan.”

 

Daehyun liked it when they had a plan. He just wished Himchan liked it half as much.

 

With one pat to Daehyun's shoulder, Youngjae passed him by and to the elevator leaving him alone under the green canopy of the Unit's central room. It got quiet again and Daehyun turned to climb up and sit on Himchan's desk with his feet resting on his chair so he could watch all of the nothing happening on the security cameras.

 

The warehouse its self was dull and grey, but in the background Daehyun could see the lights of Busan flickering across the bay and the shadows of passing ships heading from their docks out to sail for Japan, or China, or further still. He missed it, more than he would usually admit. It wasn't like he was dissatisfied with his life in Seoul, quite the opposite, but Busan with its sea cliffs and golden sand beaches was home. Never in his life had he considered moving away and leaving it far behind, until a man in black came to visit him at the Busan Police Academy before he even realised his own value, and made him an offer so good he couldn't resist.

 

Across the room the door clicked, and Daehyun turned from the security footage for just long enough to see Yongguk emerging. He had been wearing a black suit that morning, similar to the one he'd worn that morning down south when they first met, but sometime through the day he'd lost his blazer, then his tie and the top of his shirt was unbuttoned just enough that Daehyun could see the top of his elaborate floral tattoo peeking out. He'd asked about it once, and Yongguk told him his sister had done it. She was a tattoo artist, she did all of his work.

 

“It's late.” Yongguk greeted as he came over towards the desks.

 

“It is.” Daehyun agreed.

 

“You should go home.” There was a warmth in Yongguk's voice that made Daehyun crack a small smile and he shrugged, then gestured to the tv screens when Yongguk stopped and leant beside him.

 

“I'm watching this. Plus, Jae stayed last night, so I'll hold down the fort tonight.”

 

Yongguk sighed, “I don't like it when you sleep here, unless it's absolutely necessary.”

 

The comment had Daehyun turning to glance at the Director with raised eyebrows, “I liked the tie you wore today. Reminded me of the one you keep in your locker for when you stay the night and need a change of clothes. _Funny_ that.”

 

“Touché.” Yongguk snorted and their focus returned to the security footage. Nothing was happening, and Daehyun was growing more and more unsettled about that _blind_ spot.

 

“At least we sleep in the break room, instead of the morgue.” It had always weirded Daehyun out that Junhong slept in his labs. He couldn't think of how it would be possible to get a good rest when there were dead bodies literally like _right there_. The whole thing gave him the absolute creeps.

 

“Junhong likes it. Says he works better in a place he's comfortable in, and he could practically live in that lab if I'd let him.” Yongguk pursed his lips, “More than once I've considered setting a curfew on this place to get the lot of you to _leave._ ”

 

Daehyun laughed, “Let me guess, Himchan-hyung called you a hypocrite?”

 

“Something like that.” Yongguk shifted against the table and his back pushed at a stack of paper causing him to turn his head around to gaze across the mountains of folders they had piling up over what he was sure had once been Himchan and Jongup's desks, “Anything particularly enlightening coming out?”

 

“No.” Daehyun sighed and rubbed a hand across his forehead, “Nothing. Absolutely nothing.”

 

“These are the witness statements, correct?” Yongguk clarified while flipping open a yellow manila folder and glancing over the page. It was the transcript of an interview with a woman, the mother of someone Golden Lotus had killed sometime after the fall of the dictatorship in the eighties.

 

“Witness statements, yes, and prison interviews with known gang members, reports of newer criminal activities that can be linked to Golden Lotus, old cold cases of past murders. And nothing.” Daehyun turned to glare at the offending documents, “They all feel... Wrong. Lee Taejin is only mentioned a handful of times, and Song Ahra not even _once._ ”

 

“You still think she knew something?” Yongguk glanced up.

 

“Surely she _had_ to. If he was in Seoul looking into opening more clubs for Golden Lotus like _The Rook,_ surely she would had to have known something. If she was killed to be silenced, it would explain the stitching across her mouth.” It was frustrating beyond belief, to have so many folders of _nothing_ piled up around them. The warehouse had been a relief to find, but with a glance back to the security cameras, Daehyun wondered if letting them follow that lead had been a terrible idea.

 

“What about those clubs?”

 

Daehyun turned back and shrugged one shoulder, “Nothing came of them. It looks like they came close to opening one, but Lee moved back to Busan with the victim before it could. It all just doesn't add up, the missing DNA, the lack of information on either of them. We're going around in circles!”

 

“People like Lee Taejin survive off of plausible deniability. It makes sense that he isn't mentioned, because orders would never come from him, they would come from someone else, someone who he would trust to never implicate him in anything.” Yongguk waved his hand through the air as he spoke, though his eyes remained on the papers in his hand.

 

“So if he killed the victim...” Daehyun prompted and Yongguk sighed.

 

“If he _wanted_ to kill the victim, he would have had someone else do it.”

 

“Wow great guy.” Daehyun replied drily.

 

Yongguk's expression was dark and his eyes filled with concern and contemplation, “We just need to pinpoint what his motive would be.”

 

“Himchan would have an idea.”

 

The statement made the Director blink and lift his head. Maybe it was the time of day, maybe the lighting, but Daehyun suddenly looked exhausted, with bags under his eyes and newly set creases in his forehead.

 

“He probably would.” Yongguk agreed, “But just because he is good at his job, doesn't mean you're not good at yours.”

 

Yongguk's hand lifted and he gently scuffed Daehyun on the chin, then rubbed at his hair causing him to groan and try and dodge the affection, “I lost a body, not many people can top that.” He said sarcastically.

 

“Whoever took that body did it intentionally, and planned it. If you hadn't have left that room, you or someone else could have been hurt.” The reply was suddenly more serious and Daehyun frowned, he hadn't thought of that.

 

“Yes but-” He started, though movement out of the corner of his eye distracted him and he turned from Yongguk to again look at the footage. The lights in the stomach of the warehouse had gone dim and from the blindspot at the left of the screen, a white truck was emerging and stopping out front.

 

“Did you see that truck go in?” Yongguk asked, and Daehyun shook his head.

 

“No... It must have already been there.”

 

The door on the side of the building shook and trembled, then slammed open and a group in black emerged. Their faces were partly covered with black face masks, like people wore if they were sick, and Daehyun wondered if they knew they were on camera. Three came out first, but Daehyun's heart stopped when a fourth followed, guiding a man with his hands secured behind his back and a bag over his head.

 

“That's Jongup-” He said.

 

Jongup was loaded into the back of the van, and three more people left the building, supporting the limp weight of another between them. Himchan's arms were secured just as tightly it looked like, and his head was bagged all the same, but while Jongup had been pushed into the truck, he was thrown in like a rag doll then the door slammed closed, and the truck pulled away.

 

“ _Shit!”_

 

Daehyun launched himself off from the desk and landed back into his chair behind the open lid of his laptop as the vehicle disappeared from frame.

 

“Did you see a company name?” He asked while his eyebrows furrowed low over his eyes.

 

“No. The sides were blank.” Yongguk shook his head.

 

The sound of tapping filled the room and Daehyun's fingers danced across his keyboard, trying to search his way through neighbouring security cameras to follow the truck along its route. He didn't even notice that Yongguk had called the labs until the elevator doors were dinging open, and Junhong and Youngjae were rushing down the stairs.

 

“What happened?” Junhong asked as he and Youngjae rounded the desks to look at the screen over Daehyun's shoulder. He'd managed to follow the vehicle across the shipping yard, but it was heading for a main road and they couldn't lose it.

 

“They've been caught,” Yongguk replied to the doctor, and Youngjae quickly grabbed his phone and dialled Himchan's number from memory. The sound of the ringing felt like it was reverberating the whole way through his skull as he watched Daehyun punching codes into the keyboard searching desperately through cyberspace for access to the next camera grid.

 

The screen had gone black, and white codes were streaming across it, nothing but a mess of letters and numbers for anyone but their resident computer guy. Youngjae slammed the phone down, it had rung out.

 

“Where's Jongup's number?” He asked while trying to sort his way through the papers across his desk, he knew he had it, but he'd left his phone in the lab.

 

“Dae?” Yongguk placed a hand on his shoulder, the truck would be on the road by then, they were running out of time.

 

“Almost there...” He said, his face tense as his eyes sorted their way through the security coding until finally with the tap of a final button, a mosaic of live footage spread across his screen. There were roads, parking lots, petrol stations and shopping strips, all teaming with people and cars going in every direction.

 

All eyes searched from one tile to the next, desperate to recognise a face, a vehicle, anything at all.

 

“Can you see it? Is it there?” Junhong asked anxiously, while holding his casted arm close in against his chest.

 

Daehyun slammed his fist down on the table and pushed his chair back forcefully from the desk. He rose and left the room, slamming the door to the break room behind him.

 

“No.” Yongguk replied instead, “We lost it.”

 

*

 

When Himchan woke up his head was pounding so hard that the whole world felt like it was rocking. Light was filtering through to his barely open eyes and it made his stomach lurch so violently he had to close them as tight as he could while he convinced his stomach to keep its contents down.

 

A rumble came from under him, then another sway and he realised the world wasn't rocking, he was moving.

 

He snapped open his eyes, but groaned as the pounding in his head intensified under the stark white light above his head and he attempted to reach up to cradle his skull but his hands couldn't move. They were bound behind his back. He groaned again.

 

“Hyung?” Jongup asked, not far away. From Himchan's brilliant and faultless internal compass he estimated he was about... a metre directly in front, but he wasn't quite willing to attempt to open his eyes a second time, so he was satisfied with his guess.

 

“I'm alright.” He lied and wrinkled his nose.

 

“Your face is telling me you're not.” Jongup replied. Himchan would think he was being a smart ass if his voice hadn't been so serious.

 

“Yeah well...” He tried, but he had nothing.

 

Instead, he focused on his hands, the binds around them were tight, thin and he confirmed pretty quickly they were zip ties, fastened almost up to the wrist. A brush of his fingers also showed him that they were wrapped around some kind of bar built vertically along the wall of the vehicle, keeping him upright and secure, but also giving him a point of pressure. Struggling would only cause the ties to tighten, so he relaxed back in closer to the wall and ignored his head to let his hands go lax. Slowly, he started to twist his wrists against one another which put tension on the securing plastic mechanism where it pulled against the metal frame. His blood supply wouldn't take too long to cut off, and he could already feel his pulse in his palms, then in his fingers and his jaw tightened in concentration until finally, the tension snapped and his hands were free.

 

He hissed and pulled them up to rub at the dents the ties had left with his fingers, while making a gallant second attempt at opening his eyes, “Just give me a second and I'll come get yours.” He murmured while blinking slowly. The pounding in his head wasn't so bad by then, and the light felt less oppressive and only a moment later he felt steady enough to look at Jongup, who was holding his hands up and wiggling his fingers.

 

“Beat you.” He said with a crooked grin.

 

Himchan rolled his eyes, then started about surveying their enclosure.

 

“What happened?” He asked. Jongup watched Himchan rise up from the bench he was seated on and braced his hand against the wall of the truck so he could feel his way around it. The walls were thick and stabilised by a row of the bars they had each been secured to, while another three were fastened along the roof.

 

“After they knocked you out some more of them came. I couldn't see them, they put a bag over my head.” Jongup explained about the woman who had known their ID cards were fake as soon as she had seen them, and Himchan gave him an unsettled look.

 

“And you know her from somewhere?” He asked and Jongup shrugged.

 

“I can't figure out where but I've definitely heard her voice before.” He sighed and rubbed at his own cheek. Where he'd taken the punch was blossoming into a blue bruise surrounded by red swelling and he gingerly pressed his fingertips around it in the hopes of figuring out the extent of the injury.

 

“How long have we been moving?” Himchan asked next. The vehicle rocked, and Himchan reached up to hold onto one of the bars on the roof to keep himself steady, while coming to the conclusion that it was a refrigerated truck probably originally purposed for transporting meat. The benches built into each long wall were added in later, just planks of wood fastened in with metal bolts and plating, and the white walls were stained with yellow and brown marks.

 

“A while. Over an hour at least, maybe nearing two. I tried to memorise the turns we were making at first, but it just felt like we were going around in circles until we were on a freeway. We could be going anywhere, Mokpo, Gwangju, even back to Seoul.” He sighed and rest his head back against the wall.

 

“Why would Golden Lotus want to take us to Seoul?” Himchan asked and Jongup shrugged.

 

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

 

Outside a horn blared and Himchan lurched forward to push at the back door with his hand. It rattled, probably bolted from the outside, but judging from the way it moved he wondered if he kicked it hard enough, it might burst.

 

“What are you doing?” Jongup was rising to join him near the door.

 

“Wondering how hard I'd need to kick it to get it open.” Himchan replied honestly.

 

“Are you insane?” Jongup balked, while reaching out a hand to steady himself against Himchan's bicep as the truck went over a particularly uneven stretch of road.

 

“You think waiting to end up wherever they take us is a better idea?” Himchan nudged at the door again, then looked around for something they could pry the benches from the wall with. He may need a battering ram.

 

Jongup shook his head, “I think we'd probably have a better chance of survival than jumping out onto a crowded freeway at 120 kilometres an hour, yeah.”

 

“Fair point.” Himchan nodded and pulled back a little further. The truck was starting to slow, and he looked up and around again, trying to find _anything_ they could use to their advantage. The zip ties were broken, and it would take a little more than brute strength to dislodge the bolts fastening down the benches.

 

“If we stand either side of the door we'll have an advantage. Whoever is going to climb in here will have to come head first, and they still think we're tied up. I'll take them out, and you get ready for whoever follows.” Jongup suggested.

 

“And weapons?” Himchan asked. The truck turned, and he gripped on to the wall frame to keep himself upright, they may not have much time.

 

“Let's hope they have some we can take.” Jongup replied.

 

“This is crazy.” Himchan said, with a brightness in his eyes that could only be attributed to adrenaline, “You're lucky I trust you.”

 

Jongup paused for a moment, but Himchan was too distracted to notice the way he stared. The truck had stopped, and soon beeps began to echo as it backed in towards their fate.

 

“Hey.” Jongup said, and Himchan glanced to his face again. He didn't look scared, and Himchan appreciated that. He hoped he didn't, either.

 

A door opened and slammed shut, then the sound of voices followed and Jongup leant forward to pull Himchan into a kiss, firm and brief but comforting all the same. Himchan chased him when he pulled back and caught him again for a second.

 

“You ready?” He asked when he released him, this time with his lips curved into a crooked smile.

 

“Nope.” Jongup replied.

 

Himchan laughed, “Neither.” And they got into position.

 

When the doors flew open, neither of them really knew what to expect and as they lurched forward to put their plan into violent action they paused when they were faced with a wide open garage filled with men and women dressed in neatly pressed black suits, all of whom held guns. Jongup tensed and raised his arms, Himchan followed him a second later. A quick glance around confirmed there were ten of them in total positioned around the garage, maybe more concealed out of their line of sight against the body of the truck.

 

Granted either way, it wasn't going to be an easy fight.

 

“Arms down.” Came a voice that had Himchan's stomach lurching all over again.

 

Guns were lowered and the Suits parted aside to allow someone else through. He was tall, with black hair and a neat suit, and a self assured smirk that looked all wrong sitting on Yongguk's face.

 

“Good morning” Bang Yongnam greeted as he stopped a few metres from the mouth of the truck, “Welcome to the NIS.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello good morning surprise! Love always to Laura who I am grateful to times a million <3


	13. Chapter 13

Without the chance to settle in their surprise, Himchan and Jongup were unloaded from the truck and lead through the garage and into the NIS Headquarters. Yongnam had business to attend to, so Not-So-In-Charge and Wheezer, whose real names were Kang and Park, were appointed as their guides.

 

The garage was big, with pale concrete floors and a high ceiling, more than enough space for several vehicles to sit side by side with room in between. Shelving units and different machinery were fastened to the far walls, and Himchan deduced the space was used for more than just parking. NIS agents moved out of their way as Kang and Park lead them through neatly arranged corridors built out of the same pale concrete as the garage, and accented with black painted metal beams and glass panels in the walls so that they could see through the rooms into the next, then the next beyond that. It wasn't too dissimilar to the architecture of the Unit's own home under Seoul, the Commissioner knew what she liked.

 

“The Boss wanted you checked out.” Kang said as he gestured in to one of the labs where a young woman was reading a document. She wasn't as young as Junhong, but close to it and she didn't glance up at them as they stopped outside her window, “Our doc can fix you up.”

 

“Yongnam doesn't want to return damaged goods to his brother?” Himchan asked, though didn't make a move towards the door. Instead he folded his arms over his chest, and made an attempt at smothering a wince at the accidental pressure he put on his bruising. It was definitely worse.

 

Kang shrugged and glanced at Jongup. The swelling on his face was getting worse, too. He opened the door and Himchan turned first to enter.

 

“Hey, man. I'm really sorry about your head.” Park said quickly before he could and Himchan paused in the doorway.

 

“I wish I could say the same about your eye.” He responded. The agents stood out of their way, and Jongup followed his partner in.

 

The doctor cleaned them up quickly. She was a pathologist, like Junhong, but she seemed to have experience patching up living patients too which gave Himchan a fraction more confidence in her as her fingers felt their way across his scalp to see where the skin had split from the impact of the gun. He hadn't even noticed he'd been bleeding until she ran wet gauze through his hair and it came up copper red.

 

Once they were patched up and tidy, Kang and Park escorted them down another selection of hallways until they were lead into Yongnam's office, where he sat behind a black glass desk.

 

“Take a seat.” He said while gesturing with his hand to the chairs across from him, and Jongup took the offer. Exhaustion was catching up to him fast.

 

Himchan, on the other hand, hesitated. While Yongnam waited with a patience much like his twin's, Himchan looked around the room. It was decorated in a way that felt sterile, with landscape images framed on two of the three walls made solidly from concrete rather than the same panelled glass they had seen in the rest of the building. A plant was miraculously growing in a pot in one corner, and books lined shelves built alongside it. Nothing about the room felt personal, nothing about it felt real. But then again, nothing about Yongnam did either, anymore.

 

Eventually, he sat down, and Yongnam leant back in his chair.

 

“I don't know if I've ever seen you think this hard, Himchan-ah.”

 

“I have a lot of thinking to do, Yongnam.” Himchan replied. Years. They had known one another _years_. Sure, his relationship with Yongnam had always been periphery to that with Yongguk, but if asked Himchan probably would have referred to him as a friend. Right then, he wasn't feeling particularly _friendly_ and he folded his arms tightly over his chest, more careful of his stomach this time.

 

“I'm sure you do.” Yongnam nodded, “I'm sorry we had to meet like this. If I'd known your investigation had brought you to the warehouse, we would have kept out of your way.”

 

“Why were your people in the warehouse? We are mid way through an investigation, and I don't know about your working style, but this-” Himchan gestured around himself, “-Is not exactly doing all that much to assist it. Where the fuck even _are_ we?”

 

“Seoul.” Yongnam replied, “And my people were in the warehouse, because we have been investigating Golden Lotus for the past eleven months.”

 

This had Himchan straightening in his seat. His left knee was starting to bounce under the desk, and the outside of his thigh brushed against Jongup's every time it moved. He didn't even notice that his partner was still as a statue.

 

“Does Yongguk-”

 

“Know?” Yongnam prompted, then snorted, “You really think after thirty-two years I can keep a single secret from him? He has known about this investigation since long before Song Ahra was murdered.”

 

Song Ahra's name silenced Himchan, and for a long moment the men just stared at one another. Yongnam was relaxed, comfortable, it was Himchan who was on edge. He didn't like being lied to, and Jongup wished he could reach over to smooth out the creases between his eyebrows again before the muscles tightened enough to make his whole skull ache. But he kept his hands to himself, folded in his lap.

 

Yongnam leant slightly forward and rested his hands on the desk, “Look, I know we have information that will benefit you, and maybe you have information to benefit us. The NIS and Unit 12 have never had overlapping investigations before, and I am sure you understand my initial reservations in handing over intelligence to another agency, and why I would want to keep an eye on the work you are doing regardless of my own personal connections with your team. However, I understand _trust_ is vital and that is why when I spoke to my brother on the phone this morning, he and I agreed that it is about time our two agencies worked together on this, and the first step in any inter-agency friendship is honesty.” He reached down under his desk and pulled open a draw with a low whirring sound. A holstered gun, ID card and badge were placed on the table between them and Yongnam finally turned to look at Jongup, “Welcome home, Agent Moon.”

 

Everything went very still. The ID photo of Jongup printed by his name was staring blankly up, sealed with the silhouette of the NIS symbol beside it and under the desk, Himchan's leg stopped fidgeting. The longer he stared down at the card on the table, the more Jongup felt aware of the warmth that radiated from where the outside of Himchan's thigh was still pressed against his until silently it pulled away so they weren't touching at all.

 

“Thank you, Sir.” Jongup murmured and he reached out his right hand to pull the items towards himself.

 

Yongnam's lips twitched into a smile more sincere than any preceding it, but then his expression was schooled and he turned to Himchan again, “We want the same result. I'm sure being open and honest with one another will only bring that result sooner.”

 

“Open and honest.” Himchan nodded a few times with a dry chuckle, then stood up, “Is there anything else you'd like to be _open and honest_ about while I'm here, or can I leave?”

 

The legs of his chair scraped across the floor with an ugly sound, but Yongnam didn't flinch. Instead he just watched him with his hands folded casually atop one another and nodded.

 

“I already have agents in Busan gathering your things from the hotel. They'll be returned to you shortly.” It was as good as a dismissal, and Himchan didn't wait around to reply. He turned towards the glass door that lead back out into the hallway. Kang and Park had gone, but standing against the opposite wall was another almost-familiar face watching, smirking. Ha Jooho's arms were folded across his chest and Himchan didn't waste time looking at him when he opened the door and entered the hallway.

 

“Hyung...” Jongup followed Himchan, reaching out to catch his arm, “Wait, I'll show you the way out.”

 

The touch, simple as it was, turned Himchan's head towards him but his expression remained as schooled as it had been since the moment Jongup's ID had been laid out on the table.

 

“I think you've done enough.” He replied, and turned past Jooho to walk south back down the hall the way they'd come.

 

Jongup watched him go, until Yongnam called him back, “Jongup-ah.”

 

He turned, Yongnam had risen from his chair and had come around his desk to lean against one of the vacated seats, “You and I will go to the Unit at 0800 hours. You have some time, get some rest.”

 

“Yes, sir.” Jongup replied, nodded, and turned north.

 

It didn't take long for Jooho to catch up and fall into step beside him, “It's good to see you, too.” He commented sarcastically.

 

“You shouldn't have approached me outside the bar.” Jongup replied. He was walking fast, in a hope it would prevent his own exhaustion from catching up to him. He badly needed a shower, he needed to sleep even more, but he knew he would have a long wait until he got the chance to crash out properly.

 

Jooho laughed, “Come on, I was curious! The mystical magical Unit 12, it's the stuff of legend, Sweetheart, who wouldn't want to see that?”

 

Jongup stopped abruptly, “Don't call me _Sweetheart.”_ He gritted, “It was a risk, and you shouldn't have taken it. You could have jeopardised my cover.”

 

“Can't I want to see what kind of people you're hanging out with? That's what a partner is supposed to do. I was watching your back.” Jooho said and Jongup rolled his eyes.

 

“You haven't been my partner on a case since we started on Golden Lotus.”

 

“That doesn't mean I haven't been watching your back.” Jooho said, but Jongup ignored him and started walking again. He was ten metres down the hall when Ha called out after him, “Kim's not a bad looking guy.”

 

Jongup didn't stop though, and he turned to climb a flight of stairs towards the showers leaving Ha Jooho behind.

 

*

 

At first, Himchan thought about going home. His bed was at home, so were clean clothes, but once he was back out on the street he knew he couldn't keep his brain quiet enough to sleep. It was still a while before sunrise, and though taxis were speeding past, he opted instead for the train. He'd liked trains ever since he was small and he started taking them to school with Yejin because their parents worked long hours and they didn't have time anymore. She promised them she'd escort him right up to the front gate when he was only in his fourth year, and she'd already moved on to the high school a little way further down the road. Himchan was their boy, their only son, but Yejin was the one who always loved him most. To her, he wasn't the son, or the heir, or the one to carry on the Kim family name, he was just her little baby brother and sometimes in the afternoons when she came to pick him up she'd be waiting out the front with a drink she'd bought on her way past the convenience store, always Himchan's favourite, cold in summer, warm in winter and she made him promise that he wouldn't tell their parents lest they think she was spoiling him rotten.

 

The train stopped at Gangnam central, and he knew he should have gotten off and gone home, but he stayed on until it crossed the bridge over the river and pulled up in Yangnsan where he followed the familiar lanes around in circles and ended up right at the start again, in the Unit's headquarters. He'd been given his wallet back on his way out of the NIS, and used his keycard to get into the building even though it was blacked out and locked up, empty so late at night. The elevator rocked and banged reliably, and finally he was descending the stairs towards Yongguk standing in the middle of the room with a glass of amber in his hand.

 

“You _knew_ that Jongup was a spy.” Himchan skipped formality and landed right on anger. His chest was tight, and he could feel his face flushing.

 

“I did.” Yongguk said evenly, honestly. His tone only proved to build Himchan's frustration further.

 

“You _lied_ to me.”

 

“You know I couldn't tell you that, and you know why. I avoided the truth, but I never lied to you Himchan.” Yongguk leant back against the desks. They were a mess of papers stacked one on top of another, until they leant in a dangerously Pisa-esque fashion. Pens and pencils were everywhere, so were post-its that had been scribbled across, and at some time over the preceding days the photo of Yejin had been knocked over.

 

Himchan clenched his teeth and he passed Yongguk to lift it up and straighten it out. Her smile was still perfect, and her eyes were still bright, and Himchan was sure that he missed her right then more than he ever had.

 

“You should have told me, I should have known _._ ” Himchan bit, without turning away from his sister.

 

“Yongnam-” Yongguk started, but Himchan cut him off, whirling around to face him.

 

“Yongnam! Don't even get me fucking _started_ on _Yongnam!_ I've known him for _years,_ we have been friends for _years_ and all this time he's been working for them? I can't fucking-” He cut himself off this time, then scoffed and shook his head. At his sides his hands were clenching and unclenching into fists repeatedly while he tried to get his breathing under control, and small crescent shaped dents were starting to imprint into his palms.

 

Yongguk wasn't angry, he had the gall to even look _guilty_ and Himchan could hardly look him in the eye when he said, reasonable as ever, “I trust you more than I trust anyone else, Himchan. And Yongnam trusts Jongup the same. When her body went missing, Yongnam wanted Jongup on the case, just as I would have wanted you.”

 

“Why are they so invested in this?” Himchan demanded, “Their investigation is into Golden Lotus, not her.”

 

This made Yongguk pause and he glanced down to watch his drink swirling in the bottom of the tumbler. Most of the lights were off, and the few he'd left made the drink glitter as light refracted through the geometric shapes of flowers and diamonds cut into the glass.

 

“Song Ahra was an informant.” He said, “She was working with the NIS, feeding them information about Golden Lotus, and about Lee Taejin.”

 

Himchan just stared, “She was an _informant?”_ He felt the frustration boiling up in his chest again until it welled up and he snapped, “Yongguk that information is _vital_ to our investigation! If we'd known that a week ago instead of going on a wild fucking goose chase across Korea we could have someone in custody right now!”

 

“Jongup _did_ know that.” Yongguk reasoned, sending Himchan to pivot on the ball of his foot and bring space between himself and his oldest friend again with a scoff.

 

“Aah yes I'm sorry, I _forgot._ Jongup was there.” His voice was sharp, abrasive. Even just the thought of Jongup had a burning heat of anger rushing down to the tips of his fingers and toes.

 

Yongguk watched Himchan from a few metres behind as he started to pace back and forth in front of the television screens which were turned off for once. His jaw clenched and unclenched with his fists and he looked directly forward, focused on his thoughts.

 

“Jongup was just doing his job.” Yongguk tried, and Himchan turned sharply around.

 

“I was meant to _trust_ him! With this case and with my safety!” He answered harshly, “I don't like being lied to, Yongguk, you know that better than anyone, and I especially don't like being lied to by _him._ ”

 

“Did something happen between you two?” Yongguk asked and Himchan stopped walking with his back to him.

 

“No.” He lied.

 

For a long moment, Yongguk just stared at him, but he figured nothing productive came from questioning the denial and so he let it go.

 

“Can I get you a drink?” He asked after a pause and in an attempt at diffusing the tension, “I have that bottle of Yamazaki you gave me in my office.”

 

Himchan stopped, turned and just let himself breathe for a moment, then glanced at the clock. It was just after five am, “Isn't it a little early for whisky?”

 

Yongguk's lips twitched, “Not if you haven't gone to bed yet.”

 

It was a decent argument, and soon the pair were slouched down at the desks each nursing a drink they were both too grateful for.

 

“It's good to see you.” Yongguk smiled and Himchan returned it, albeit weakly. God, he was so exhausted.

 

“You too. Where are the others?”

 

“I sent the kids home when Yongnam called and promised you were safe. Youngjae was falling asleep where he stood, I put him and Daehyun into a taxi.”

 

“Junhong?” Himchan asked.

 

“He went downstairs two hours ago. He's a little harder to convince to leave.” Yongguk replied.

 

“He learned that from you, Bbang.” Himchan pointed out, but Yongguk smiled with a shake of his head.

 

“No, that was a virtue he had long before knowing me.” He finished off his drink and pushed the tumbler across the table away from himself, “Dae and Youngjae-ah will be relieved when they see you. I think they got a little tired of my attempt at single parenting.”

 

Himchan chuckled briefly, “I've always been the cool dad.” Then added, “I need a shower. I have some notes I'll need to share with the others, but I'll have to wait until Yongnam's cronies bring my things back from Busan.”

 

Yongguk nodded and watched when Himchan rose up from his seat after downing the rest of his own drink, “I'm sorry about your car. I'll have it sorted for you.”

 

“Quicker than last time?”

 

“Quicker than last time.” The director promised and Himchan gave him a comic salute as he made his way up the stairs and onto the mezzanine to the lift.

 

The carriage rocked and rumbled and when the doors slid open Himchan had to blink a few times for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. His head was still aching, and his limbs felt heavy, but instead of heading straight through into the showers, he went right towards Junhong's office. That floor could never quite get fully dark. Fridge lights in the morgue stayed on, which shone through into the labs that had a few permanent lights of their own. The illumination helped, though, and Himchan easily made his way through towards to the office on the other side where Junhong lay curled up on the couch, still in his jeans and with his broken arm tucked in against his chest.

 

Sometime through the night the blanket Junhong kept on the couch had slipped down his body and lay half on the floor and Himchan quietly tiptoed across the room to pull it back up and over him right up to the chin. He'd have to scold him in the morning for sleeping in his jeans, but right then with a brush of his palm across the crown of his sleeping head he left him be and headed back the way he'd come. Their doctor needed his rest.

 

Himchan's locker was on the top right and he punched in the code with his preferred hand while the left was already starting to unbutton his shirt. When he'd started, he didn't understand the point of having a code at all, they trusted one another, but then after a particularly muddy case Daehyun had stolen his only spare clean underwear, and he'd started locking up after that.

 

A towel was folded neatly on one of the shelves and he wrapped that around his middle in place of the dirty clothes he bundled up into a clump and shoved into the back corner beside an extra pair of shoes then rounded the bank of lockers to the shower. Steam billowed out quickly once the water heated up and curled the ends of Himchan's filthy hair, but before stepping under the spray he scraped his fingernail against the corner of the bandage covering his stomach until it folded up and he could get purchase. It peeled off easily, but Himchan still hissed at the way it tugged on the bruises that had spread over his whole stomach, worsened from the hits he'd taken the night before. Jongup had done a good job on the grazing, though, some scabs were already starting to fall off, and the worse ones looked well on their way to healing.

 

He threw the used bandage across the room into the bin and dropped his towel and stepped under the spray. Already, his muscles were starting to relax and he closed his eyes to let the heat, steam and comfort wash down and over his back. When morning came and Junhong woke up, he'd have to get him to redress his stomach again, though he was grateful that Jongup had the forethought to bring a first aid kit with them. To his own chagrin, the thought hadn't even crossed his mind.

 

But then again, Jongup's planning extended beyond bandages and antiseptic to torches and condoms and shampoo that smelled like apples. He'd worn those cute pyjama pants with blue and red patterns and swapped out his contacts for glasses in the evenings, just to give his eyes a rest. It was strange, how Himchan felt as though he had really settled in his presence over the previous few days, so much so that he hadn't hesitated even for a moment when he was presented with the opportunity to take him to bed. His hands had been hasty and eager to undo every button of Jongup's shirt and he followed every one with a kiss to the opening expanse of his chest until it was bared entirely and he was left staring at hard muscle and perfect tone.

 

“ _You can't be serious.”_ He'd said as he stared at Jongup's six pack with a weird combination of deep envy and even deeper attraction, and Jongup laughed and kissed him. Himchan had laughed, too, at the way Jongup's lips and breath tickled that spot behind his ear, and he had let go under the skill of his hands and warmth of his body.

 

For the better part of their week in Busan Himchan saw Jongup as a wave crashing around him, but that morning he realised that the moment they'd kissed he'd been pulled under, and instead he was drowning.

 

With Jongup's bared body clear in his mind, he opted to stick his entire head under the flow of water and turn the faucet to cold.

 

The shower probably lasted too long, and Himchan was still rubbing a towel through his hair when he came out towards the lift again, and noticed a light had come on in the lab. Junhong had pulled himself from under his blanket and was slumped over a microscope with only one lamp to help him.

 

“Couldn't sleep?” Himchan asked as the automatic doors closed behind him.

 

Junhong startled at the sound of his voice and his eyes widened as he looked up, “Hyung!” He said, though his heavy lids betrayed him, and Himchan smiled fondly at the way he could only blink sleepily at him. Defeated, he pushed the microscope back a little way and admitted, “Not really.”

 

“Mind if I join you?”

 

Junhong smiled sleepily, but it was wide enough for his dimple to show and he reached out with his left arm to pull the nearby wheeled chair closer, “Please.”

 

Himchan tossed his towel through the door and into Junhong's office, then washed his hands and dropped down into the seat he'd been offered, “What are we looking at?”

 

“I've been looking at the evidence we found in the car again. The results on the vomit are already back, and it's definitely hers. I found some kind of almond pastry in it, like I found in her stomach contents which makes a lot of sense.” Junhong leant forward again and squinted one eye shut.

 

“Why does that make sense?” Himchan asked.

 

“Cause almond covers the taste of cyanide.” Junhong replied, like it was so obvious and Himchan remembered that was how Youngjae described the smell. Outside, above ground in the real world the sun was rising and Seoul was coming back to life. Himchan hadn't had time to miss it in the day's he'd been gone, not the sunshine or the river, of the familiarity of streets he could navigate with his eyes closed. The Unit on the other hand with all its dust and dim and absolute lack of natural light, he missed that more than he'd ever admit aloud.

 

“Where's Jongup?” Junhong asked conversationally.

 

“Not here.” Himchan said without missing a beat. Jongup was the last thing he wanted to discuss, so instead he changed the topic, “I'm really sorry about your arm.”

 

“Well unless you've taken to moonlighting as a masked vigilante prowling the streets for unwitting pathologists, I don't exactly blame you.” Junhong replied without taking his eye from the microscope. He shifted his casted right arm and twisted the knob to focus the picture like it was nothing, but Himchan noticed his jaw tightening from the pain.

 

“Here, tell me when.” He said and stood so he could lean over Junhong's shoulder and take over the focus, “Isn't there surgery for fixing broken bones these days?”

 

“Mm, recovery is a week though. Can't miss out on that much of the case at this stage. There, that's perfect, thanks.” Junhong pulled back from the eye piece and glanced up at Himchan, “besides, I don't really like hospitals.”

 

“Ironic.”

 

Junhong made a face, “I don't like having things stuck in me.”

 

From the doorway Daehyun snorted, “Except for when Yongguk-”

 

“Please, Daehyun, for all our sakes don't finish that sentence.” Himchan interrupted. Neither of them had heard the elevator chiming, or the doors opening but Himchan couldn't help the smile that tugged his lips as his old partner stepped in closer.

 

“Hey.” Daehyun greeted, with enough shame to look a little chided at what Himchan'd said.

 

“Hey.” Himchan replied. Once Daehyun was close enough he reached out to squeeze his shoulder, and let his hand rest there comfortably.

 

“I want to hear everything about Busan, but first... Yongguk sent me down to get you both.”

 

“What for?” Junhong asked and spun his seat around.

 

“Well.” Daehyun glanced between them uncertainly and said, “We have visitors.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have now read this so many times that it could be literary genius or entire gibberish and I'd have no idea either way. Thank you so much for reading, I am eternally grateful and thank you to Laura from whom I have been keeping the revelations of his chapter secret for literally three god damn years.


	14. Chapter 14

_Jongup tapped the end of his pencil against the lined pages of his workbook, open and half filled on the picnic table in front of him. A breeze was coming from the west, and it rustled at the pages of his textbook so much so that he had to lay his phone atop it to pin them down. He read across a page, then took down a handful of bullet points, then lifted his eyes to scan around him. It wasn't like Jooho to be late. They had been meeting up every Wednesday afternoon since they had met half way through November in the University library. Jongup had been studying then, too, when Jooho approached him and asked, “Moon Jongup? From Criminology 3, right?”_

 

_Jongup didn't recognise him, but Ha Jooho had introduced himself and claimed he was always impressed with the discussion points Jongup put forward in their class. Jongup was brilliant, he'd said, way smarter than everyone else doing Law, and several years younger too. Of course Jongup didn't yet know Jooho was aware of how many years Jongup had skipped in high school, or how his stint in Yonsei university's undergraduate law degree at age seventeen had others lining up to take him in, which was how he had landed himself across town at Seoul National by twenty-two, three quarters of his way through Law School in less than two years. Admittedly, he took a lot of classes, and so when he didn't immediately recognise Jooho as one of his many classmates, he didn't leap to the conclusion that he was lying._

 

_What Jongup didn't expect after their initial chance meeting was for their run ins to become more and more regular. He'd started seeing him in class, where soon they were seated side by side, and every Wednesday through winter they studied in the library until spring, then summer rolled around, and they moved to the tables just outside. Jongup hadn't been expecting them to start sleeping together, either, but he guessed life in the big city was full of surprises, and he could hardly say he minded._

 

_The end of his pencil tapped against the pages of his notebook again and he reached for a sip of his coffee. The white paper cup was beside the one he'd bought for Jooho, which was probably well on its way to getting cold by then._

 

_The westerly breeze was growing into something a little stronger when the door to the library swung open and Jooho came without his bag slung over his shoulder and another man following alongside him. Jongup sat up straighter when they dropped down onto the seats opposite._

 

“ _Sorry I'm late.” Jooho greeted and folded his hands atop the table._

 

“ _It's alright.” Jongup replied, with eyes only for the stranger. He was older, probably by a few years, with full lips curved into a smirk and attentive eyes. He wasn't dressed like a student, either, instead wearing a neat black suit and with his hair combed back._

 

“ _There's someone I'd like you to meet.” Jooho finally said._

 

“ _Bang Yongnam.” The man in black offered out his hand for Jongup to shake, which he did._

 

“ _Moon Jongup.”_

 

_Bang Yongnam's smirk elongated into a smile at the firm hold of Jongup's hand in his, and when they parted he pulled a card from his pocket and lay it out onto the table between them. The first thing Jongup saw was the NIS emblem, positioned by a stoic photo of Yongnam._

 

“ _My colleague has told me a lot about you, Jongup-ssi, and I figured it was about time I offered you a job.”_

 

“Are you even listening to me?”

 

Jongup jolted and blinked his eyes open against the light. His elbow was going numb where it was pressed up against the car's window, and a palm shaped dent was appearing into his cheek. He shifted and sat up a little straighter while Yongnam glanced across at him.

 

“You weren't.” He said with a chuckle.

 

“Tired.” Jongup replied.

 

“I told you to take some time to rest before we came out.”

 

“Yeah, well...” Jongup trailed off, and sealed his sentence with a yawn.

 

“Good comeback, Moon, I'll be icing that burn for a week.” Yongnam rolled his eyes and urged the car forward again. A glance at the clock confirmed Jongup had zoned out for nearly half an hour, and when he turned to look out the window he saw the morning light glittering as it refracted off the river's glass surface. They were stuck in a traffic jam on one of the many bridges heading north over the Han that bypassed Gangnam and went straight for Yongsan-gu.

 

The car inched forward a little further, and Jongup's eyes fell closed again. He didn't particularly want to dream, he was too tired for dreams. The spot on his cheekbone where he'd taken the hit had started throbbing not long after he showered and changed into the black suit that stood as a pseudo uniform for all NIS agents, and he was starting to feel like the energy he saved from not having his eyes open helped him ignore the spreading pain. It didn't help him ignore the pain sitting to his left, though.

 

“So you've hardly told me anything about Busan.” Yongnam was tapping his thumbs against the steering wheel, like he did when he had a little too much pent up energy. Jongup knew, of course, that Yongnam had never seen the Unit's headquarters and he couldn't wait to finally bare witness to his brother's secret world.

 

“I gave you a full report this morning.” Jongup blinked open one eye just enough to see Yongnam roll his.

 

“I'm not talking about that. Did you get up to anything else interesting?”

 

“You mean aside from being chased through a shipping depot, getting shot at, camping out in a semi-derelict love motel and being arrested by my own colleagues?” Jongup rubbed his fingers across his eyebrows and shrugged, “Not much.”

 

Yongnam rolled his eyes again, but the look he gave Jongup was slightly more concerned, “I hardly heard from you for a week.”

 

“If I contacted you more than I did, Kim would have noticed something.” Finally, Jongup resigned himself to keeping both eyes open and he pushed to sit up entirely. With his hand against the carseat, he noticed the paper cups of coffee slotted in the console between them. They were both still hot, and he realised he must have really fallen asleep to have not noticed Yongnam stop to pick them up.

 

“Jooho was asking about you. Quite a lot.” Yongnam glanced over again, “You two aren't getting back together, are you?”

 

“No.” There wasn't a beat between the question and answer, and Jongup followed his reply by taking a sip of his drink.

 

“Alright.” Yongnam nodded, “I noticed him waiting outside this morning.”

 

Jongup grunted noncommittally in lieu of a reply and Yongnam turned to look at him properly, “Did something happen, while you were down there?”

 

Jongup frowned, he didn't understand why he was pressing, “What do you mean, you know what happened.”

 

“I know, it just isn't like you to get caught.”

 

There was a moment, just a short one, where Jongup thought about saying something. Yongnam knew him best of anyone by then, he'd over taken his brothers the night he had stood by Jongup's side the first time he'd killed someone. There had been other agents there to clean up, and they both knew it had all been in self defence, but Yongnam had taken him home and stayed with him all weekend just talking in the mindless way he did until it drowned out the sound of the gangster's neck cracking over and over and ricocheting around Jongup's mind. He didn't tell him it was the right thing to do, he didn't talk about the agent whose life Jongup had saved, or the countless more lives that one man's death was going to protect. He talked about the movie he'd seen over the weekend, about how Jongup should really keep his apartment cleaner, and about how Goyangie was a stupid name for a cat, and when Jongup cried he stroked his fingers through his hair in the way his mum used to when he was small and said nothing at all. Their friendship had been an accident at first, but some days Jongup thought it was the only thing keeping him together.

 

He didn't tell the truth, though. Instead, he tipped his head to the side and chose sarcasm, “It isn't like you to keep me in the dark- Oh _wait,_ that's _exactly_ like you.”

 

“I said I was sorry.” The traffic was moving again and Yongnam returned his eyes to the road, “Besides, I only keep you in the dark when I can't tell you the truth and I think you can hold your own. I didn't expect you to be raiding warehouses unarmed in the middle of the night.”

 

“It wasn't exactly my idea. We'd been holed up in that hotel room for nearly two days, I think cabin fever was a very active member in the design of that plan.”

 

“You're lucky it was us.”

 

“And Park's lucky I only broke his finger.”

 

It wasn't far off the other side of the bridge that they turned right, then left, then right again and pulled up outside the unassuming front of Unit 12's secret HQ, and Jongup could see from the expression on Yongnam's face that he was just as underwhelmed as Jongup had been when he'd first seen the building.

 

It shouldn't have been a surprise how easily they passed security. Jongup's ID was hardly looked at when he entered the building alongside Yongnam, and it was the first time he realised how afraid of Yongguk the uniformed officers must have been. So much so they didn't even stop long enough to check it was, in fact, _him._

 

The clunky elevator doors slid open and Yongnam stepped in, saying when the doors closed, “I should probably speak to Yongguk about the security of this place.”

 

“Just incase you turn evil and try and infiltrate.” Jongup nodded.

 

Yongnam snorted, “So you're absolutely sure there's _nothing else_ I should know about your Busan trip before we get down there?”

 

“Why do you keep asking me that?” Jongup asked, irritated, and Yongnam shrugged.

 

“Kim Himchan is a nice guy.”

 

“Kim Himchan hates my guts.”

 

“Kim Himchan hates everyone's guts, that's Kim Himchan's whole _thing._ ”

 

“Then I don't understand what it is you're asking me.” Jongup replied firmly, and the clunking stopped, then the doors slid open.

 

Under the wide open canopy roof, Unit 12's headquarters was a mess. The desk was a catastrophe of papers, dirty coffee mugs and overflowing rubbish bins and Jongup had never seen anything quite like it before. He didn't pay much mind to it, though, because when they descended the stairs towards the mess he focused instead on Yongguk standing by the TV screens, with Youngjae and Daehyun. They'd been talking, but when the elevator doors screeched open had turned instead to face them and now Daehyun and Youngjae were glancing uncertainly between their guests.

 

“Good morning.” Yongnam greeted when he stopped a few metres from his brother, and Jongup stopped beside him.

 

“Morning.” Yongguk replied, and smiled warmly, “Jongup.”

 

“Morning, Sir.” Jongup greeted respectfully.

 

“Daehyun-ah, why don't you head downstairs and let the others know we have guests.” Yongguk's instruction was kind, but it left no room for argument, and so Daehyun nodded his head and did as he was told. Youngjae glanced at Jongup first, taking in the sight of him in his black suit, then looked at Yongnam.

 

“I finally have an excuse to visit your HQ, Yongguk-ah.” Yongnam glanced around, taking in the sight of the green vine claiming the ceiling, and noted stoically, “It's pretty cool, I guess.”

 

Yongguk rolled his eyes, “Come on, we should do this in the conference room.”

 

The twins took up position facing one another near the head of the table, and Jongup sat down to Yongnam's right. Daehyun didn't take long, and soon he was leading an exhausted looking Junhong into the room and pulled back a chair for him which he dropped into with very little urging. Youngjae frowned and immediately started fussing, but Yongguk ignored them.

 

“Where's Himchan?” he asked.

 

“He's coming.” Daehyun rubbed his hand over the back of his neck and glanced to Jongup, “He said he'll just be a minute.”

 

“We can do introductions while we wait.” Yongnam suggested, “I'm Bang Yongnam, and I understand you know my colleague, Moon Jongup.”

 

Jongup glanced down and he avoided the confused eyes looking between him and Yongnam as they lay their NIS identification cards flat on the table. Both of Jongup's hands stayed palm down on the table, too, and he didn't look up as the Unit's agents took in the cards and physically recoiled back from the less than tactful revelation.

 

“Right.” Yongguk exhaled through his nose, “Dr. Yoo Youngjae, psychologist, Detective Jung Daehyun, and Dr. Choi Junhong, pathologist.”

 

“So _this_ is the famous Jamie Wilson-Choi? I've heard so much about you.” Yongnam leant forward and saw the way Junhong's eyes flicked automatically to Yongguk, “From the Commissioner.” He corrected the silent assumption.

 

The glass door slid open and Himchan stepped in and Jongup finally looked up. His arms were folded against his chest and where the others had settled around the table, he chose to lean back against the door frame. Yongnam managed to catch his eye and greeted him with a nod of his head, but he ignored it and looked instead to Yongguk and waited for him to speak.

 

Yongguk took his cue and shifted forward in his seat, “Run of the mill homicides are not our regular jurisdiction, and on top of that, Ms. Song's disappearance post-mortem was unusual at best. There were questions at first, about why we were chosen for this case, and now I can tell you it is because Ms. Song was an informant for the NIS, feeding information about Golden Lotus.”

 

“Excuse me?”

“What?!”

 

Daehyun and Youngjae's indignant reactions came in unison, and Yongguk glanced between them.

 

“You _knew_ about this, and didn't say anything? That chanhes everything, that changes the _entire_ investigation!” Daehyun had turned to Jongup, his shoulders up and his eyebrows furrowing low over his eyes and when Jongup met his gaze, his face was starting to go red. Himchan pushed himself off the doorframe just enough to rest his palm against Daehyun's shoulder to keep him down and in his seat.

 

“Our operation against Golden Lotus is complex and wide-spread. We have to share as little information as possible, and so Ms. Song's involvement in said operation had to remain _need to know._ ” Yongnam replied, with the same infuriating calm that Yongguk had perfected.

 

“With all due respect, Sir, as the people investigating her death I would make the argument that we very much needed to know.” Youngjae was barely keeping his frustration in.

 

“You had Jongup.” Yongnam said, “It is true that Ms. Song came to Seoul for a personal trip, but she was also intending to meet with one of our agents, so when she turned up dead we suspected immediately that it had to do with her position with us, but I asked the Commissioner to hand the investigation to you. Seoul police don't have the training to take on something like Golden Lotus, and if the investigation was yours, then-”

 

“You could listen in.” Daehyun surmised, and Yongnam's lips twitched into a smirk.

 

“I could listen in. I didn't want any of my people getting involved, until her body disappeared and Yongguk and I agreed someone had to be.” His fingers twined together and he rest his hands down casually onto the table, “If she was killed for being an informant, then that information somehow got out. I don't know if someone in Golden Lotus figured it out themselves, if she let it slip to someone she shouldn't have trusted or...”

 

“Or if an NIS agent has double crossed you.” Junhong finished the sentence.

 

“Exactly.” Yongnam looked worried for a fraction of a second, then the cocky came back like a tonne of bricks and it was as though nothing had happened, “Golden Lotus aren't to be toyed with. They trade in lives, through trafficking of people, poached goods and weapons. Busan is their main port, but they've been using bars and restaurants as laundering businesses all across Korea, with their headquarters at _The Rook_ by the docks. They first operated in the late fifties, and took advantage of the destabilisation caused by the war to rope in desperate people, but right when they were almost taken down they went to ground and reappeared five years ago. We haven't been able to secure the intel on how Lee Taejin was recruited, but he is the one pulling the strings on the whole operation, and Song Ahra provided vital access to him.”

 

Daehyun glanced to Junhong, then said, “We had a discussion about him. If he wanted her dead, he wouldn't do it himself.”

 

“No, he would get someone else to, but knowing she's an informant gives us a motive.” Youngjae replied then he too looked at their Doctor, “Do they know about the DNA?”

 

“What DNA?” Jongup frowned, and glanced between them.

 

Junhong tipped his head from side to side, like he was weighing up something in his brain, “In her car, before it was set on fire I had the chance to take some samples. Hair, vomit, that kinda thing. Most of it was hers, of course, but there was a shorter hair I tested, and it came back blank. There was no record anywhere, not in any police database I could access.”

 

“And the vehicle was destroyed immediately after you recovered them?” Yongnam clarified, and Junhong nodded.

 

“That DNA could be all we have.” Yongguk said and Yongnam exhaled long and slow.

 

“I'll have the doctor's in our facility re-run the profile, see if there is something in our database that isn't available to yours.”

 

Junhong tipped his head thoughtfully, then bargained, “I need a bigger lab. The one we have here is brilliant, in every way but it's small, we don't have the space to process the car and I'm not done with it, yet. You can have the sample, if I can use your facility.”

 

“Done. If you gather what you need, I'll have our Doc get the lab ready for your arrival, and I'll send someone for the car.” Yongnam smiled “We will work with you on this. Any resources you need from the NIS, we will cooperate.”

 

“You said she was coming to Seoul partly to meet with her NIS handler, right?” Daehyun asked, Yongnam nodded his head and Daehyun continued, “When was the meeting scheduled?”

 

“Not until the morning she was found. Either she knew something they didn't want her sharing, or they took the opportunity to get rid of her.” Yongnam sighed out through his nose, but Jongup's eyes caught Himchan pulling his hand back from Daehyun's shoulder so he could slip from the room. He didn't look back, and by the time Jongup was pushing his own seat from the table to follow, Himchan was half way up the stairs. A glance from Yongnam was all the permission he needed to followed.

 

The elevator doors opened and closed around Himchan, then moments later did the same around Jongup and with one dismissive look from Yongguk the two Doctors and their Detective returned to the stacks of paper piled up on the desk to rifle through them again in search of the leads they'd been clinging onto when Himchan and Jongup had disappeared the night before.

 

Yongguk didn't rise immediately and Yongnam caught his gaze, “There's something on your mind.” He stated.

 

“The DNA.” Yongguk replied, then glanced up to meet his brother's eyes, “Junhong could find some things from his tests, just not an identity. It was male, early thirties. He must have done his service, there should be a record of him somewhere...”

 

“Unless he was an NIS agent.” Yongnam finished for him. They rose from their own seats and turned to look through the windows onto the team working in tandem with one another. Junhong was gesturing with his left hand and Youngjae was frowning while Daehyun rifled through the papers in search of something.

 

“He's cute.” Yongnam commented, “Wilson-Choi.”

 

“He's unavailable.” Yongguk replied.

 

“Just to me, or in general?” Yongnam turned away from the window to look at his brother with a too-inquisitive look.

 

“To you.” Conceded Yongguk, and they followed the others out.

 

*

 

When the elevator doors opened and Jongup stepped out, Himchan was already standing in the centre of Junhong's lab. He was just wearing blue jeans and a black t-shirt, and Jongup thought for a moment about how this Himchan, casual, _real,_ was the one he knew best. Automatic doors slid open with a ding and he didn't turn around as Jongup came towards him.

 

“Hyung.” He said, and watched the way rigidity spread up Himchan's body, tightening every inch of him, one vertebrae at a time. But he didn't turn around, he just reached down and grabbed his phone from the countertop where it was charging and started flicking through the notifications like Jongup would disappear if he pretended he wasn't there.

 

“I'm still on this case, you can't ignore me forever.” Frustration hummed through every inch of Jongup.

 

“Maybe not, but I can give it a red hot go.” Himchan turned his head and glanced back over his shoulder and tossed his phone back down onto the counter. It slid over the top and landed with a thud that rattled the window pane looking into the morgue.

 

Jongup took in a slow breath and said, “It wasn't anything personal.”

 

“What wasn't?” Himchan finally turned around, “The lying, or the rest of it?”

 

“You know what I mean.” Jongup replied.

 

“Do I? Because I really don't think I do.” Himchan laughed incredulously and waved his right hand through the air, “How much did you know about me by the time we met? Did you know about my sister? My service? The tests? Maybe you got my whole file as some light reading to take home.”

 

“Don't start acting like you've never had to tell a lie! You have been in this world just as long as I have, you _know_ what this life requires of us.” Jongup argued, following Himchan as he turned again and walked into Junhong's office where he rounded the couch to have it between them then laughed and folded his arms over his chest.

 

“I don't lie to colleagues and I _especially_ don't lie to friends.” He grit.

 

“We each had our cases, and telling you the truth would jeopardise mine!” Jongup shot back.

 

“Being honest with me would jeopardise your case but having sex with me wouldn't? Is that how you're trained to do it at the NIS, then; seduction and manipulation to get the information you need. Then what? You high tail it out? Disappear into the woodwork in the hopes they won't notice? Tell me, does Yongnam take pleasure in pimping out his agents like that, or is it all the Commissioner's job?” Himchan advanced until his thighs were touching the couch and Jongup's jaw tensed.

 

“Fuck you.”

 

“God, honestly I can't tell what's more pathetic, that I fell for the whole thing hook, line and sinker, or that you didn't even have the guts to tell me the truth yourself!”

 

“I didn't know Yongnam was going to-” Jongup started, but Himchan cut him off.

 

“Tell me? And what if he hadn't. Would you still be lying? Would you be patching up my stomach, and asking to come home with me and hoping I'll still give you, what, information? Attention? Or maybe it's just some kind of narcissistic fantasy.” He shook his head and laughed again but this time it sounded drained, beyond exhausted, “Did you know where I was based? Did your dad even work there, or was that all some kind of rapport building exercise? Do you even have brothers?”

 

“This was never about _getting information_ from you and I only lied when I had to.” Jongup grit, and Himchan smiled dryly despite himself.

 

“Well aren't you a fucking saint.” He said.

 

The elevator doors sounded and Junhong came out and through the lab, but stopped in the doorway to look between them uncertainly. Jongup was panting, Himchan's face was red and the Doctor hesitated then said, “Hyung... I should probably re-dress your stomach before I go check out the NIS.”

 

“Agent Moon was just leaving.” Himchan said without looking at him.

 

Jongup tensed his jaw and didn't move, “You can say what you want about me, Himchan, but I am telling you the truth that I did not _once_ lie to you about anything that counted. Everything that night was honest. _Everything.”_

 

Himchan didn't look at him, and he didn't wait around long enough for a response. The elevator rattled it's farewell, and once they were alone Junhong glanced back to Himchan, then took what he needed from the drawers by his desk, “Since when were you two...” The Doctor wriggled his eyebrows once.

 

“We're not anything.” Himchan replied, as he lifted his shirt for Junhong to patch him up.

 

“Hyung, that didn't look like nothing.” He commented, then smiled and teased, “He's a nice guy. Smart too. He's totally your type, and you don't get riled up like that over someone you don't care about.”

 

“If you don't mind, kid, I don't need relationship advice from _you._ Some of us have enough self respect to realise when something is doomed from the start and I don't have time to chase someone who doesn't give a shit about me like a pathetic puppy.” The snap of his voice was so harsh that Junhong physically recoiled from him and blinked his rounded eyes in genuine surprise at the outburst. Himchan's teeth clenched and unclenched, while Junhong stayed silent and focused his gaze and fingers on searching through different sizes of cut gauze each wrapped individually in sanitary plastic that crinkled as it was moved.

 

“So _that's_ what you think of me.” He said softly after a moment, and Himchan winced, guilt setting in once the heat was gone.

 

“No... No, Junnie I don't-”

 

“I think you should go. Take this, Youngjae or Daehyun or someone will do it.” He set the gauze, tape and antiseptic down on the counter, “I'll be in the morgue if anyone else needs me.”

 

Himchan didn't try and stop him when he walked away to scrub up, instead he dropped down into Junhong's seat and put his face in his hands. He didn't think he'd ever felt like such an asshole.

 

Just upstairs, Jongup slipped his arms into his coat and wrapped his scarf around his neck while stewing in stormy silence. Yongnam noticed his mood as soon as he re-emerged from the elevator, and bid his farewells to his brother so he could follow him back above ground, through security and out onto the street. The sun was higher in the sky, it had dried the wet patches on the pavement, and Jongup's breath got caught in the sunlight.

 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Yongnam asked diplomatically. He'd perfected his management talk over the years, and he glanced sidelong at his friend. The anger around him was more than palpable, and he could see the way the muscles in his face were taught and his brows furrowed.

 

“Not particularly.” Jongup replied, hands in pockets and eyes straight forward.

 

“This is about Himchan?” Yongnam prompted still and Jongup huffed out a cloudy breath.

 

“You should have let me tell him. He should have found out from me.” He replied. Anger in him simmered low and hot, but he learned Himchan was prone to boiling over and spilling out and burning all the way. The tip of Jongup's nose was red, and Yongnam couldn't tell if it was from the cold, or the anger, or a combination of both.

 

“I thought you didn't get along.” He observed.

 

“We don't.” Jongup bit back.

 

Yongnam unlocked the car and Jongup didn't wait before he was climbing in and slamming the door. Yongnam sighed and watched the cloud of his breath billow then dissipate. He followed Jongup into the car and stuck the key into the ignition.

 

“Whatever it was that happened between you two in Busan sure was one hell of a _nothing._ ”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, the ultimate thank you to Laura who is The Best.


End file.
